Zulu Company: Hell On Earth
by Raptor-19
Summary: The sequel to the popular Zulu Company: The Last Stand. Set four months after the conclusion of the Human-Covenant War, the Spartans of Zulu Company return in a war to survive against the Flood on a world under the Parasite's complete control...their own.
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes: GUESS WHO'S BACK!!! lol. No, seriously though, I apologize for the delay. This took considerably longer than I thought because I wanted to have the first few chapters done in advance, and I've been unbelievably busy since school let out (job-hunting, mostly), so...yeah. That being said, couple of things:**

**1. If this story at all interests you, I would sincerely suggest that you suffer through Zulu Company: The Last Stand first. Granted, I'm sure you COULD read though this having not read it, but you're going to wonder who in God's green Earth these people are, why I keep referring to an Assault Carrier, and why any leader would put up with Ezekiel Veron for more than two seconds. Like I said, you don't HAVE to...but it is recommended, and I can't be responsible for anything you don't understand if you haven't, lol. Now, if you HAVE, and I still sound like an idiot, then feel free to yell at me. ;)**

**2. Thank you to all who reviewed the Ending Credits at the end of The Last Stand. lol, I won't address them here, since I'm trying to have a "clean slate" so to speak, but if you have questions or comments, the same rules as before apply: ASK AWAY! lol.**

**3. I realize that this Prologue is freakin' ENORMOUS. I apologize. I had a LOT of information that I needed to get stated before I got into the story, and this was the only good way to do it. I've tried to break it up into pieces so that it's easier to process, but I'm afraid it's still a LOT to take in. That being said, don't worry if you don't remember each and every date or the exact details of the events, as long as you get the basic concept and understand where Zulu is NOW. Thanks all for your patience, in advance.**

**4. For anyone who cares, some progress was recently made on the whole "submitting The Last Stand to Bungie" front. Actually, ironically, it was my mother who made a connection between book companies and Microsoft (who, as of some time ago, now owns the rights to Halo, for anyone who didn't know). That being said, I have the company printed out along with their submission guidelines and I'm currently prepping The Last Stand for submission. You can submit the first 10,000 words (which sucks for me, since...well, the end was what I was truly proud of). So, for those of you who wanted me to at least try and submit it: there you go. :) We're working on it (and by "we", of course I mean myself and Samson00, since I haven't let him off my non-existant payroll just yet).**

**And, for those who DIDN'T want me to submit it...sorry, you and I were BOTH outvoted. ;)**

**Thanks for your patience, everyone! I hope the Prologue, while wordy, at least gets you hooked and gives me a few readers for the first chapter, to be posted toward the end of this week or the very beginning of the next.**

**Without additional statements from me: it's with much pleasure that I introduce to you all...**

**ZULU COMPANY: HELL ON EARTH**

* * *

**Prologue:**

The world has changed since the end of the Human-Covenant War in March of 2553. What was once a site of hope and the rebuilding of a home has been tainted, stained in ways that it can never recover from. The date is July 7, 2553, more than four months after the conclusion of the Great War, and the Earth has become a very different place.

Humanity has been exiled from the planet, lest the Parasite should take them all. Their starships are still lightly-armed, at best, being repaired at space stations and orbital docks all over the galaxy. But it is a race against time. The Flood are confined to Earth…but for how long?

What began as a seemingly-small threat – a sudden warning – quickly progressed into an unstoppable assault on the birthplace of humanity.

* * *

How did it start? That's the simple part.

On April 21, the UNSC Destroyer _Cerberus_ emerged from Slipspace in the Sol system, near Mars. Those on Earth attempted to make contact, but quickly discovered that the ship was no longer under human control.

The _Cerberus_ had fallen to the Flood.

Immediately, a full attack was ordered, and the planet's Orbital Defense Platforms shredded the Destroyer in minutes. And those on Earth wondered if they had seen the last of the Parasite.

But the answer came swiftly. In eight days, six Flood-controlled ships made themselves visible, just outside the range of the Magnetic Accelerator Cannons. With no major starships appropriately armed for combat, the UNSC was forced to sit and wait, watching the ominous vessels in the distance as they bolstered their forces. And in the distance they remained, watching…and waiting.

And for three days, the world stood still.

It was May 2 when the stalemate was broken. One of the former-Covenant vessels initiated a Slipspace jump and vanished from space, reappearing inside the Earth's atmosphere, above the German city of Berlin. It promptly crashed into the heavily-populated area, and the infestation started.

The UNSC wasted no time. A squadron of _Longsword_ bombers were called, all of them armed with HAVOK Nuclear Warheads. In less than one hour, the entire city – and the surrounding area – had been reduced to a barren wasteland. Nothing remained but craters and ash to mark the passing of the once-great capital.

But the problem had been solved. The Flood had been stopped.

For the moment.

Two days later, on the fourth day of the month, the Flood struck again, this time in full force. Three of the remaining ships – two UNSC Frigates and a Covenant _CCS_ – jumped into the atmosphere above three of the Earth's most important cities. London, England; Sydney, Australia; and New York City were hit at the exact same time in the middle of the night. Even as the three infested ships touched down, the remaining pair in space flew straight toward the planet.

And while that pair would never come close to slipping by the MAC Guns, they would get close enough to release almost two-dozen dropships – both UNSC and Covenant – that would crash into various places on the planet and begin the infections of over a dozen countries on four continents.

* * *

In hindsight, one could say that those leading the UNSC were fools in their tactical approach to the Flood's major attack. But, at the time, no one, even those who had seen the Parasite's powers before, believed that those few short hours would matter.

The first order in response to the attack was a full-scale evacuation of the planet that would take place over the next seven to eight days, depending on the severity of the infestation that would inevitably follow the initial strikes. In addition to this, some argued for the immediate heavy bombing of the three major cities. Others countered that the value of these three areas outweighed the importance of an immediate, "rushed" assault.

Finally, an answer was decided. Due to the tactical and symbolic importance of the three major cities that the Flood chose to assault, Lord Hood and the highest ranking officials in Earth's government elected to attempt a quarantine of the area around New York City and also of the one surrounding London (HIGHCOM in Sydney was to be defended with a more offensive approach). Their goal was to first confine the Parasite to the cities, and then strategically eliminate them with the very best the UNSC had to offer.

This plan was a complete and utter disaster.

In less than one full hour, the Flood – somehow – had breached the areas around each metropolis and spread into nearby cities and towns. By the time the _Longswords_ were instructed to drop HAVOK Nuclear Warheads on London and NYC, the damage was irreversible. The plague had begun.

Sydney, Australia, was a similar failure. Countless soldiers were called to the gates of HIGHCOM to defend Earth's most important tactical organization. They fought valiantly and for days, but to no avail. Eventually, even HIGHCOM would fall to the Flood's relentless assault.

And the wars were not limited to Earth's largest cities. The dropships that had landed and started their own infections were serving their purpose with similar success. With armies numbering in the tens-of-thousands, the Flood strategically attacked the power plants that gave energy to the Orbital Defense Platforms. Instead of destroying them, however, they conquered them and began to assimilate themselves into the electronic systems.

On May 9, 2553, the UNSC initiated the Lifeboat Protocol, which gave all repairs on spacecrafts a 72-hour window to be space-worthy. Any ship that would be incapable of leaving the atmosphere in the next three days was called to be immediately and totally destroyed. In addition, the procedure ordered that any vessel in danger of capture by the Flood was to initiate its self-destruct sequence.

By May 11, the Flood's infestation had extended to nearly every country on the planet and their numbers were estimated to have easily made it into the billions – and still growing swiftly. It was at this point that those leading humanity first came to grips with the notion that the Earth was completely under the Flood's control.

The next day, the provisions of the Lifeboat Protocol expired and all UNSC ships were called to evacuate any ranking personnel and as many civilians as the craft could hold. Complete memory-wipes of sensitive data were performed and massive carpet-bombings of the Earth's major cities commenced in humanity's last hours on its home planet.

* * *

And it was on this day that the three members of Zulu Company still on Earth were called to duty once again. Samuel King and Ezekiel Veron had been called upon earlier to return to the military hospital in Madagascar where they would meet with Blaine Everson, whose surgeries had finally been completed. Now, however, they were to return to the fight.

The nearby island of Zanzibar, home to half-a-dozen government complexes and research buildings, had just had its own infestation begin, as a Flood-controlled Pelican dropship slipped through defenses and crashed into the area surrounding a base of the Office of Naval Intelligence. The primary purpose of this base was the study and engineering of Covenant technologies, and the highest-ranking operatives deemed it "too important" to evacuate immediately.

Zulu Company was called in to slow the Flood's progress on the island long enough for the operatives inside the base to copy their data, clear it, and evacuate. And at first, it appeared that they would do precisely that.

But as they learned on the Assault Carrier, against the Flood, nothing stays positive for long.

The Parasite found a leak into the facility in the form of a drainage tunnel, and a single Infection Form inside the base soon reduced Zulu's seemingly-impenetrable wall into a useless barrier with enemies on both sides. With the situation impossible to rectify and a HAVOK-armed _Longsword_ called in to finish the fight, Zulu was ordered to leave the island by any means necessary.

With no time to evacuate personnel and the Flood's numbers growing at every turn, the trio of Spartans retreated to the outer rim of the complex, where they discovered a Covenant vehicle depot that housed a Ghost, two Brute Choppers, and a Separatist Phantom. After a short debate, the Choppers were attached to the dropship and the Spartans abandoned the complex, leaving the island burning behind them.

At this point, nearly every UNSC-controlled starship has been called to leave the planet, and the members of Zulu Company are forced to make a choice. HIGHCOM has long-since fallen to the Flood, and communications from Lord Hood and other ranking officers has ceased completely. In fact, the only messages that either Demon or Gael can pick up come from the island of Mahé, where civilians are struggling to fend off their own infestation and secure an extraction point.

So, with no available orders, the three Spartans flew toward the island's capital, Victoria. They landed the Phantom outside the city and stormed in, only vaguely aware of the Hell that they had entered into. The city's population of well over one-hundred-thousand had been all but completely overwhelmed by the Flood. Within five minutes, the Spartans came to the realization that the city simply could not be saved.

It was at this point that Samuel gave a new order: to give up on the protecting the city and search for survivors. The Spartans split up and took whoever they could, pulling them away from the quickly-deteriorating capital city. Of the twenty-six that were found, only five managed to escape the city with them.

One of these revealed himself to be an ex-ONI operative, Joel Miedema. He informed Zulu Company that he had been part of the attack on the Forerunner Dreadnought, stationed in an ONI Prowler. Then he informed them of something more important; something that, soon after, would save their lives.

The Prowler that he had served on had been hit by Covenant Anti-Air Guns on the way out of New Mombasa and had crash-landed on Silhouette Island, roughly twenty kilometers northwest of Mahé. But it had been repaired almost to working condition, and would do everything typical of such a ship…except for leaving the atmosphere or initiating a Slipspace jump.

At the time, it meant very little.

Fifteen minutes later, Demon picked up a communication from the UNSC fleet. It informed the Spartans – and anyone else listening – that there would be no more evacuation runs. The Flood had finally taken control of the Orbital Defense Platforms, and were making the final adjustments before turning them on their UNSC creators that were still in orbit around the planet. It was Lord Hood's voice that personally apologized to those still on the ground for his failure to prevent this assault, and his failure to respond to it in with the best approach.

* * *

With nowhere to turn and with no help to speak of, Zulu Company took the Separatist Phantom, activated the cloaking technology, and brought the survivors to Silhouette Island. They quickly located the downed Prowler, investigated the surrounding area, and set up inside the hundred-and-fifty-meter-long vessel.

The Spartans soon realized how lucky they truly were. The crashed ship had a working reactor and computer system, ablative coating and electronic countermeasures that made it all but invisible both to computers and to overhead aircrafts, enough food to last for just under two weeks, and a pressurized interior, which would be invaluable when the Flood began to alter the atmosphere.

At first, they waited. They waited on someone to come and glass or bomb the areas where the Flood were thickest and then to come and evacuate them from the now-damned planet. In about a week, food started to become scarce, and drastic measures had to be taken. The electronic countermeasures were removed from the Prowler (with instruction from Demon and Gael) and reapplied to the Phantom dropship. Now cloaked and electronically invisible, the vehicle was the perfect stealth vessel.

The first of what would become routine food-runs occurred on May 19, when Samuel, Blaine, and Zeke took the Separatist dropship to the island of Mahé, landed it in the heavily-wooded interior, and invaded the city of Victoria in the dead of night. They were fortunate enough to find a Troop Transport Warthog, which they packed to the brim with food and supplies and brought back to the Phantom.

And they returned to Silhouette, 'Hog and all.

Fourteen days later, with the Prowler locked down and the Spartans fairly secure in their hidden location, Samuel made a decision to investigate the African coast and to search for additional survivors. On the second day of June, Blaine took him to the island of Zanzibar in the Phantom and dropped him off with the knowledge that, if and when the brown-armored Spartan needed a ride, he would use Gael to let him know.

* * *

It is now July 7, 2553. Samuel has been gone from Silhouette Island for thirty-five days and has not tried to send word to the remaining Spartans of his location or his condition. No attempt at contact has been made by the UNSC to the ground below and no ships have entered Earth's space in well over a month.

But that is about to change.

Zulu Company – on the verge of collapse – will be forced to reunite, and while their motives will differ, their goals will be much the same. Strained and at the breaking point, they will venture out into the Flood-controlled Hell that Earth has become and fight to survive. They will wage war with the Parasite in the places where it lives and thrives most.

And, while they are no longer fighting under the UNSC or for those that rank above them, some things never change. The same Spartans from Earth's last stand against the Covenant will return, and they will stop at nothing to cleanse the infestation and eliminate the galaxy's greatest threat, even if they must burn the Earth to ash in order to do it.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Ah, it's me. You knew there'd be something at the end. ;)**

**Not much to say though. Apologies again for the wordiness. Just know that it was necessary, I PROMISE you. If it wasn't, I wouldn't have done it (I don't type to hear my fingers crack, you know. :) hehe). I do hope to hear from at least a few people, though I doubt too many will pick this up right off the bat, since it doesn't quite have the reputation of The Last Stand (something about 719 reviews or 397,000 words...).**

**Still, if you do, whether you're a new reader or someone who was with me throughout all of the The Last Stand, I encourage and ask you to leave me your feedback, and rest assured that my practices from the first book remain the same: I answer all reviews to the best of my ability, no matter how short (or LONG, lol). I like in-depth thoughts; I like short statements that are to-the-point and easy to read. Please, if it's on your mind, I would love to hear it. And, if it's negative...I got tough skin. Trust me, Gormanuyai will grill me harder than any of you. ;)**

**Thanks all! Enjoy your week! It's great to be back to posting!**

**- Raptor**


	2. Chapter 1: New World

**Author's Notes: Alright! I said one week, and here it is (was hoping for last night but, unfortunately, I have AOL at home, and dial-up sucks. It wasn't my biggest fan either, so it wasn't allowing me to even get on FanFic, much less upload a document and post it. That being said, I'm on now, and we're ready to go! As anyone who has read The Last Stand knows, however, REVIEWS FIRST!**

**REVIEWS:**

**Snipess: HEY! My very first reviewer of Hell On Earth! Thank you very much! And I tell you now: my only hope is that this story can live up to all your expectations, as you've been waiting so patiently for it. ;) Thank you for your review!**

**0756: Hey, I sent you a PM with the response to your question. I hope you got it (if not, let me know, lol). And, as I said to Snipess, I really hope this story lives up to everyone's expectations and the high hopes you all seem to have. Thanks a lot for reviewing!**

**bashbro: Glad you liked the Prologue! I can't believe you could re-read The Last Stand that many times...I liked it when I was done but, I didn't think it was THAT good, lol. Thanks for your review!**

**Taylor114: Hey! I'm thankful you enjoyed the start of the story, and glad to hear that you'll be stickin' around. :) Hopefully, I can get you all to stay on my merits, and not just out of loyalty. ;) Hehehe, thanks so much for your review!**

**ching965: Wow...you flatter me, lol. And this is only the Prologue! And I too hope the submission goes well, when I finally get around to sending it (when the editing is done). Anyway, I hope you enjoy what's to come, and thank you very much for the kind words!**

**killerman83ca: Hey! Good to see you back. And also good to know you'll be reading along. Thanks much for the grand amount of support, and do enjoy this first chapter!**

**Robert1000: Thank you! Oh, and by the way: updating right now. ;)**

**Mhop12: lol, ninja rabbits huh? ;) And yeah...Earth got pwned bad. And, to answer your statement about the humans: they were said to have had hundreds upon hundreds of colonized worlds, and while the Covies glassed quite a few, Earth was far from all they had. It was just their biggest secret, it was the one planet they were determined to keep from the Covenant (even if...they failed, lol). But, thanks for your review, and know that I appreciate the input!**

**Barca: Or, should I say Dr. Lecter? lol. And you're right: there have been significant changes since the end of the first book. This takes place months later, and as you saw...well, things have kinda gone downhill, lol. And yes, you can expect to see Nova in the future, though I will tell you now that it's not right away. Also: Mahe' Island and its capital, Victoria, are actual places East of Africa. Anyway, thank you very much for the kind words, and I do hope the submission goes well too. I could care less about profit, but I must side with a friend of mine: if I could see Zulu in a movie, I myself would pay to see it. ;) Thanks a lot, and I hope you like what's to come!**

**FireWolfFred: lol, you missed Zulu did ya? haha. And YES, Hell On Earth will be MUCH darker than The Last Stand was (except perhaps the end of the first book; it was kinda dark). And I can't wait to hear your input (or, rather, read it, I suppose). Thank you much!**

**Samus 117: lol, like I said, don't worry too much about specific dates. Really, it's all important, but most people don't know that the Covenant found Earth on October 20th, and it doesn't exactly ruin the story or anything...so no problem. ;) And don't worry about ONI. What goes around comes around, ya know? Thanks a lot!**

**armoured-blade: Yeah...I know, it's kinda hard to judge based on what's there. Don't worry though. I promise it'll get much better soon. Trust me. Now, questions:  
1. The Lifeboat Protocol, by all rights, should have destroyed the Prowler, and I was hoping someone would bring it up. That being said, give me 'til about Chapter 6...Chapter 7 at the latest, and it'll be brought up in the story. Hold me to it. :)  
2. It is coincidence that Zulu ended up on Mahe', but it is a convenient coincidence. ;) For me, that is.  
Oh, lol, and the other Spartans did not die, but they're not on Earth yet. If you recall, the end of the ground segment in The Last Stand had them on a space mission...one that they have not returned from just yet. Anyways, thank you very much for the review, and I hope this chapter gives you a better view of the story!**

**outlaw hunter: Hey! Welcome back to Zulu reading, lol. I certainly hope this story meets all the bars you guys have set for it, lol. Oh, and yes, Earth has gone to Hell, quite literally. And I promise, this chapter is much less wordy, lol. Enjoy! And thanks for your review!**

**the D'Haran general: lol, thank you much! I'd hardly say a "great" author, but...I do appreciate the compliment. I hope you enjoy what's on the way! Oh, lol, and just for the record: MAN!!! hahaha!**

**hellhound cerberus: Hey! Hope you're as excited in a few chapters as you are now, lol. As for what took so long...well, life gets in the way, ya know? Also, I intend, now, on posting once a week, so I have time to get a few ready in advance and not keep you all waiting longer than I have to. Finally, any questions you have about Gael or Magnus or Vic or ONI should be answered in the first half-dozen chapters or so. Give me a little rope, and I promise not to hang myself. ;) Thanks a lot!**

**1 way ticket: Hey beautiful! :) Yeah...I imagine a lot of that was random to you, haha. Don't worry though: I promise it'll get easier, and you should like this story best of the three that I'll do, given your fondness for "internal struggles" and character development. ;) Thanks Cutie!**

**V0id Drag0n: Well, I'm glad you liked the opening...and, if all goes well, this will be better than The Last Stand...lol. Thanks!**

**ikldmrogers: Hey! Yep, I'm back, FINALLY, lol. And yes, life gets in the way ALL the time. ;) And I promise that the rest of the story will be easier on the eyes and the mind than the Prologue...there was just so much I had to work in to get everyone up to speed on the situation. And thanks for the props on submission...I hope they at least read it. That's what I'm looking for. :) Gracias for your review, and enjoy the chapter!**

**Suliac Griffin: Hi! I agree entirely: as a Prologue, I hope you won't judge the story on its start, lol. But, give me half-a-dozen chapters, and you'll start to see the real meat of the story starting up (after I get through the obligatory openings, ya know? haha). That being said, I understand entirely what you mean about the fate of humanity and the goals of Hell On Earth. The simple truth is this: humanity is alive and still thick on many, many worlds. The only reason that this is as big a deal as it is, is that this is Earth. If it weren't the home planet of humanity, the birthplace, this story would mean next to nothing. But, as things stand, none of humanity's warships are back up to par or strong enough to simply glass or destroy the world. So yes, to be short, humans are alive, and that's what some Spartans will fight for.  
Rest assured, in this story, everyone will have motivations for what they do or don't do. There will be a lot more character development and internal struggles than I had in The Last Stand, and while the UNSC will not play a prime part in the story, they will still show their faces occasionally, as they do have a purpose too for me. ;) Let's just hope I can pull off the official's POVs for a short time when I decide to. lol.  
Anyways, thank you very much for reviewing for me, and I hope you like the story to come. I promise to do my best to keep it up to everyone's expectations. :)**

**DoctorG27: Glad you like the start! And if you've read through The Last Stand, then you should know me all too well: I couldn't do an entire book with nothing but Combat Forms and the Pure Forms (even if I use the Juggernaut). So don't worry...you'll see fighting with more than just the Flood themselves. ;) That's all I'll say for now. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Redflame101: Hey! Yes, it is fitting that the capital is Victoria, isn't it? And, as for who is alive: Blaine, Zeke, Sam, plus the rest of Zulu Company apart from Vic and Magnus (who is MIA after the Flood put him in a cryo-tube). Also, all of Nova Company is alive, save for Nathan. Thanks a lot!**

**The Not-So Addict: Good to hear from you! And I'm always happy for an honest review. Glad to hear I've got you hooked too. ;) As for the submission stuff:  
1. Thank you much!  
2. I wish I could have sent what I wanted...but they want the start. And, to be fair, the end would make little sense if they hadn't read through it. Sad, but true.  
3. I don't know how it would all work if I got it published, but right now I doubt this goes that far (I'll do all I can to see it happen, but I doubt it). And, in the event that it does, I'll be sure to talk terms for my loyal readers. :)  
Lastly, I apologize. I know all too well that the Prologue was condensed. The fact is, it was so long already, and ALL the information was necessary...I didn't want to post too much more or lengthen it and risk it being so wordy that no one could keep it all straight, you know? Still, I hope it wasn't too bad, and that you enjoy what's to come! Thank you for your review!**

**WOW, 22 reviews on the Prologue! You guys are amazing, really. Thank you very, very much. Anyone who read The Last Stand as I was typing it knows that I'm usually good about deadlines, but I sometimes fall behind. Let me promise you: as long as the reviews come in like this, I don't care if I have to drive to someone else's house with high-speed internet, I will do the very best I can to maintain every deadline. If you guys are this set on telling me what you think, then the least I can do is make sure to keep my deadlines. Now, I won't give you a guarantee, as life sucks sometimes and stuff happens...but rest assured, I'll keep things as up-to-date as humanly possible. :)**

**Thanks all, and enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

– **New World –**

**1300 Hours - July 7, 2553**

**Downtown Bagamoyo - East African Coast**

Samuel crouched low as he stepped out from under the decaying structure that had served as his shelter during the previous evening. He glanced to both sides, searching for any of the disgusting creatures that he'd seen only several hours before.

"Area's clear," Gael said, the AI's voice echoing inside his mind. "First orbiting satellites passed an hour ago."

"You think the Flood are still using them?" Samuel asked, though he knew the answer perfectly well. As long as the satellites would run, the Flood would use them. Why shouldn't they? It wasn't as if it cost them anything to monitor the images twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week-

"They're still being accessed, as far as I can tell." She said. "How'd you sleep?"

The brown-armored Spartan scowled. "As well as can be expected," he said, "given the circumstances."

There was no answer that she could give to that, and Samuel knew it. The circumstances were unbelievable; something out of the world's most terrifying horror movie.

The ancient, rotting city of Bagamoyo loomed around him on all sides, completely overtaken by Flood-spawned growths and what seemed like centuries of decay. Located on the African coast, it was as close to Zanzibar as the Spartan could get without swimming, and it had been one of his first priorities as a potential rescue-site.

But fate had intervened. When Samuel had first departed the Zanzibar base in his commandeered _Longsword_, the city had been literally crawling with Combat and Pure Forms, all perfectly aware of his presence and waiting on him to land.

_Courtesy of those freakin' satellites,_ Samuel thought with a glance at the disgusting, green-tinted sky that seemed to be forever locked in a state of semi-darkness. Since the Flood had altered the atmosphere, the nights grew to a new level of blackness never before imagined, and the days had been reduced to what could only be described as twilight. _Repulsive, green twilight,_ he thought bitterly.

No sooner had the thoughts crossed his mind that he forced them out and suppressed a scowl. The time on Earth had hardened him in ways that nothing else could, but Samuel had adamantly refused to let the atmosphere consume him. He knew it too well: the moment he lost his faith and his composure, he would die in this Hell.

"Any movement over the last few hours?" he asked, stepping out into the street. It was almost 1400 hours, but the sun was barely visible in the sky through the dense fog that formed Earth's new atmosphere.

"Negative," Gael answered, sounding distracted.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking into those files from Zanzibar." She paused. "I might have found a lead. Unfortunately, it leads straight to the computers at HIGHCOM-"

"Just like the rest of them." Samuel finished, sighing. "Oh well. Keep searching. We'll find something eventually."

"Yeah," she said with an air of conviction, "I know."

Samuel stretched again and made another quick scan of his surroundings. Last night's assessment of the area was proving to be pretty good for being on a dead sprint and leaping from the top of the half-deteriorated Mission's Building in the pitch dark of night.

There was a single-story structure that stretched the entire length of the block on one side that Samuel guessed had, at one point, been an old garrison in years past. Dying and deceased flora littered the surrounding area, and a single, two-story house loomed just a short distance down the road.

The structure that Samuel had stayed in was much less subtle. A large church with intricate, expansive halls stretching out from a central peak on both sides, it was probably the most ominous building in town.

But it was also the easiest for a ten-foot-tall Spartan to hide in.

As things had happened, most individuals had abandoned the area when New Mombasa was destroyed, and almost no one was left in the city when the Flood invaded. Because of this, the Parasite couldn't know the most elaborate ins and outs of the church, and Samuel had used that to his advantage. He'd searched frantically and stumbled upon a small entrance to the basement and hidden as best he could in the damp confines until his motion sensor stopped giving him warnings.

That had been four hours ago. After a quick sweep of the church and the street, Sam had taken refuge in a small study near the front of the building. The room didn't have a window to its name and only one door, which he had barricaded before settling down.

If the Flood had come for him, they certainly weren't about to sneak up on him.

But, as had become the pattern, they acted almost as if they were either bored with him, or they'd forgotten his existence entirely, eventually leaving the area and returning to…wherever it was they inhabited when there wasn't prey to be chased.

"Samuel!" Gael's frantic voice tore him from his thoughts in an instant.

"What?"

"I'm picking up something on the outskirts of your sensors."

Sam checked the suit's motion detector, but saw nothing but empty space. "Are you sure? I got nothing."

"It was right on the edge, barely close enough for your HUD to read. But it was definitely there."

"Flood?"

"Wasn't hostile," she said, "at least, not as far as I can tell." The AI paused. "Off to your right."

Samuel was instantly fully alert and with his Shotguns in his hands, looking down the road, at the house that he'd noticed the night before. If there was one thing that he'd learned in the last few weeks, it was that civilians didn't normally come out into the open anymore. On the off chance that someone had survived, they hadn't accomplished it through stupidity or carelessness.

And venturing out in broad daylight was as foolish and reckless as one could get in the Hell that Earth had turned into.

_But,_ Samuel thought, _to be fair, we don't even know if they see any worse at night. It was all just speculation._

Two sides had been divided from the moment the Flood invaded. The question was a simple one: did the darkness really impair their vision? If it did, it meant that nighttime attacks were humanity's best bet. But if not…why impair the very soldiers that were being sent to defend the world?

Eventually, scientific theory had come to favor the former, and it was widely accepted that night-based assaults would work best.

_Turns out, _Sam thought grimly as he walked slowly down the street, _nothing worked very well. Nothing._

His motion sensor suddenly beeped as a single yellow dot appeared on its outskirts. It was faint though; whoever – or whatever – was there wasn't moving very much.

It was moments like this that made Samuel thankful for the various upgrades that had been made to Spartans' sets of armor. Their motion sensors had been improved to pick up on a great deal less motion, and for a slightly greater distance. In addition, the plating that made up the solid layer of the MJOLNIR armor had been made thicker in an effort to prevent the Flood Infection Forms from penetrating it.

The first improvement had worked well, but no one had gotten a chance to test the latter.

And Samuel was perfectly fine with that.

"Any ideas on what I'm seeing?" he asked, double-checking every system on the armor, from his vitals to his Shotguns, to the mounted weapons under his wrists.

"No," Gael said, her tone hinting at confusion. "It's not registering as hostile, but half the time it's not even showing up on the sensor." She paused. "I honestly don't know, Sam."

Samuel had already developed a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. That was the second thing he'd learned from this new world: if his gut told him something, it was usually right.

And it was telling him right now that he needed to turn around and go back the other way.

"Sam," the female voice echoed again, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

The brown-armored Spartan smiled at her unknown agreement with him. "Yeah," he said, "me too." He passed the edge of the church and saw a large truck parked to one side, dangerously close to the wall.

"Someone parked in a hurry," Gael joked, most likely as nothing more than an AI's poor attempt to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Sam answered, risking a quick second glance at the vehicle. It was a tanker truck with markings going down the length of it signifying a combination of explosives and radioactive material. A shiver went down the Spartan's spine at the possibility that the vehicle could still be full of whatever volatile, government-classified material it had been assigned to deliver.

Even so, he couldn't place what in the world it would have been doing in Bagamoyo, unless maybe it had been delivering material to be transported to Zanzibar.

Perhaps there was another one of ONI's corrupt complexes nearby? Samuel didn't know anymore, and part of him didn't want to. Since the return from the Assault Carrier, he'd been to and from over a dozen such bases, and the more he found, the more he became aware of. The more he became aware of, the more questions he had and the more hatred he had built up for the organization. They had bases all over the planet, in areas he would've never even guessed, performing experiments that should never have even been-

"Sam," Gael was abruptly speaking again as he came to the edge of the house, guns drawn. "There's something very wrong with this."

"Trust me," he whispered, "I know." He could tell by the reading on his sensor that whatever was moving was inside the house, probably near the opposite wall. There were a trio of windows on his side of the structure, but blinds on the inside destroyed any hope he had of catching a glimpse of the interior from the relative safety of the street.

Without a sound, the brown-armored Spartan weighed the risks of opening the door to the bleak, ruined structure that was now towering over him as he stood at its entrance. Something was amiss; that much he knew. But what was it? The Flood hadn't appeared on radar in over four hours and the satellites were long gone from the sky. He was virtually alone in the long-forgotten town-

Except for whoever – or whatever – was inside the house.

Finally, his humanitarian spirit, his training as a protector and a soldier got the better of him. Samuel King stepped to the doorway and gripped the metallic handle, turning it downward-

"Stay away from me!"

The voice was human and male, shaky but harsh. Samuel already had an image in his head of the source of it and even an idea of the personality, based solely off the frightened – yet stern – orders that had been shouted to him.

"Sir," he said, pushing the door open. No amount of training could have prepared him for what he saw.

The man was in the corner, covered in what could only be assumed to be his own dried blood. His old, unwashed military fatigues were torn in two-dozen places and his face was gripped with a fear that looked to Samuel like it had been permanently engrained there.

But that wasn't the half of it.

At least seven places on his arms, legs, and abdomen were blotched in a sickly green color and bulging like tumors, and he suddenly fell forward onto his knees and began screaming as Samuel continued to stare in shock.

"Sir," he said, but lost the rest of the words somewhere in his throat as the man sat back up. He had pulled out a combat knife and was waving it around threateningly.

"Get the Hell away from me!" The knife drew back like he was going to throw it at Samuel, but the soldier must have changed his mind because he suddenly turned it on himself and pointed it at his chest. "Get out of-" His speech abruptly turned to a mixture of sobbing and screaming in agony as the knife fell from his hand and he fell face-first back onto the floor.

Then, without warning, the growths suddenly began to grow darker. Sam could only watch in horror as the man's body was mangled and twisted before his eyes into one of the wretched Combat Forms that the Flood so mindlessly threw into battle. He heard the bones in the man's right arm crack and break at least ten times as the limb was distorted to make way for the undead terror's tentacles to burst into the world in an agonizing rush of pain and torment.

When the creature on the floor lifted up to face Samuel, the pain, the suffering, the harshness...the life was all gone from its eyes. The man's head hung at a disgusting angle to the left side, looking at him with a cold, dead stare. Small feelers protruding from the chest cavity drew attention to the Infection Form that had been hiding there.

_Monsters,_ Samuel thought as a familiar rage boiled to the surface. It was the same rage that he had felt nine days before as he watched an entire family of five be transformed before his eyes into a group of these disgusting creatures. There had been nothing he could do then, either…they had been infected with countless spores before his arrival, and the Gravemind chose that moment to turn them into weapons to use against the Spartan.

This time, however, was different. Nine days previous, Samuel had gotten the distinct impression that the Flood spores had simply been waiting to accumulate and that he had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. But this…

The Infection Form was there. It was hiding in the former soldier, taking refuge from the world around it and biding its time, knowing full-well that, until it transformed his body, his radar wouldn't know whether to pick it up as a hostile or a friend, and that his sense of duty would force him to find out for himself. This time, it wasn't coincidence.

It was a trap.

The realization had only just hit him when the sound of something heavy driving down the road echoed in his ears. He barely had time to jump out of the way before the vehicle – a military-style, jet-black armored van drove clean through the wall to the right of the doorway and stopped inside the house. There had been a Combat Form inside, but Samuel could see its frail, decomposing corpse had ruptured in the crash.

"Sam!" Gael was suddenly screaming into his head. "We have to go! It was a trap! The bastards set a trap!"

"Yeah," he snapped, "you think?" He turned around to move for the door, but heard the Combat Form behind him scream as it stood fully and charged toward him. The undead creature leapt into the air-

BANG!

A single blast from the Shotgun in his left hand was enough to rid the world of that particular Parasite forever. Samuel grimaced as the half-deteriorated insides splattered across his armor and visor.

"Lovely," Gael quipped bitterly.

Samuel ignored her, moving toward the entrance-

A Tank Form crashed through the closed door, narrowly missing the Spartan when its giant limb came crashing to – and through – the old wooden floor.

"Oh, come on!" Sam shouted, backing up and firing three shots from each weapon into the beast's feeler-stuffed maw before it fell to the ground, dead and gone for good. The Spartan ran to the windows and threw the blinds to the side, expecting more of the same.

But he hadn't expected so many.

Dozens – perhaps over a hundred – of the undead creatures were outside the house, waiting patiently for him to exit. He couldn't fathom how so many could appear so fast, and seemingly from nowhere. And from what he could see, the vast majority stood between him and the church he had come from. He knew that there was a dense forest that began behind the house.

_Perfect for an ambush,_ he thought, immediately throwing the idea out the proverbial window. _I have to get back to the _Longsword_._

But it wasn't going to be an easy task, even for the super-Spartan that had led Zulu Company through the perils of the Great War and the battle with the Flood on an infested Covenant Assault Carrier. There were so many of them…and Samuel could even make out a pair of the Juggernauts in the mix, towering over the rest of the living dead with their long, thick legs and enormous tentacles.

He couldn't fight them. Even with two Shotguns, the Spartan Laser and Battle Rifle on his back, grenades and the twin Sentinel Beams attached to the bottoms of his wrists, there was no way that he could take as many of the creatures as he knew were waiting for him.

He had tried that once already, and only through a God-given miracle escaped with his life.

In all reality, it wasn't that the Spartan couldn't handle the Combat Forms that he saw. He could even deal with the Flood Juggernauts if he worked hard enough and watched his steps carefully. No, that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that what he could see wasn't the end of them. It never was. If the super-soldier saw a hundred Flood-controlled soldiers, there were at least two-hundred more hiding in wait somewhere nearby, and they would pour in at a moment's notice, leaping and screaming and crashing down on him like demons in some kind of ghoulish nightmare.

No, he could handle a few dozen Combat Forms. What he couldn't handle were the insurmountable numbers that were never far off, always ready, always waiting for one more corpse to enlist to help them in their sick cause.

"We're trapped," Gael said, pulling him from his thoughts. Samuel could tell immediately that she was running over a million calculations in her computerized mind. "Sam, I'm picking up additional contacts, and the next satellites will be passing overhead in forty minutes. You need to hide, and you need to do it now."

"I know," he said anxiously, "I know!" The brown-armored Spartan looked around the house frantically for a cellar, a basement with an outside door…anything at all that could buy him some time to escape the force waiting for him outside.

There was nothing. It was a simple, two-story house with all the usual furnishings and none of the strategic, tactical advantages that a super-soldier could ask for.

Samuel forced himself to make a decision. He took the stairs to the second floor in hopes that a better vantage point would offer more options. Silently, he entered into a large, mostly barren bedroom with a pair of large, door-sized windows overlooking the street. Outside, the Spartan could see the undead horde waiting for him.

_What are they waiting for?_ He wondered. There was no reason that they shouldn't be attacking him already. No doubt, they'd fare better against him in the street, but why wait? They could take him inside just as-

Sam's nostrils began to burn as the filters on his MJOLNIR armor failed to completely block out a scent that somehow seemed vaguely familiar. It was something that triggered a memory in the back of his mind, and he could suddenly see one of his fellow Spartans – this one in black armor and standing without his helmet – in the middle of a flaming inferno, surrounded on all sides by the creeping dead as they burned alive.

"Pyrosene!" he growled under his breath, immediately realizing the Flood's ultimate goal.

No sooner had he said the word that his reality was suddenly plunged into the depths of Hell as the entire house below him lit up in a billow of white-hot flames that threatened to swallow it whole. Sam braced himself against one wall as the immense heat rocked the house in its merciless race to expand.

The Flood were taking no chances. Samuel knew that from the overbearing smell alone. The complete exterior of the house was all but dripping with the semi-liquid pyrosene and was now rapidly going up in smoke.

And in the few seconds it took Sam's trained mind to comprehend this, that same smoke had already started to fill the room from the downstairs and blacken the tainted air outside. In mere moments it had enveloped the house and ruined his vision, so much so that all he could see of the horde below were the giant, twisting tentacles of the Juggernauts, cutting through the air several meters above the decaying heads of the rest of the Flood.

In the distance, he could make out the edges where the road met the grass, where the dying ground gave way to the church that he'd taken refuge in-

Samuel suddenly realized that the vision was wrong. The ground did give way to the church, but there was something else. The very top of the huge truck that he had passed on his way to the house stood out amongst the black smoke like a beacon in a storm. There was a fifty-fifty chance that it still had anything inside, but Samuel was willing to bet his life that it did.

As the flames found their way into the bedroom, swallowing the bed and nipping at the Spartan's legs, he put the Shotguns on his thighs and brought the Spartan Laser up to his shoulder, aiming through the large window into the smoke just below the top of the truck and counting down the seconds in his mind. He prayed silently that this could work, that his time wasn't up just yet-

After three full seconds, the blood-red laser tore through the window and the air beyond before it seared clean through one of the Juggernauts that had been standing between Samuel and the government tanker. And it kept going, cutting through the pitch black smoke and through the exterior of the vehicle-

BOOM!

Exactly as he had hoped, the truck before Samuel detonated in a bright, orange explosion that obliterated the wall of the church where it was parked and engulfed more than half of the Flood stationed outside in a single, massive blaze. The blast rocked the burning house to the point where Samuel was sure it would collapse on top of him-

But, somehow, it didn't.

Without waiting for the newly-made smoke to clear, the Spartan crashed through the remainder of the window as if it were nothing and landed solidly on the ground with the twin Shotguns already in his hands and utterly decimating any of the Combat Forms close enough to take a swing at him with their repulsive tentacles.

He ran through the crowd with the adrenaline of combat coursing through his veins, trampling more than a dozen of the abominations under his boots as he continued on a dead sprint toward the _Longsword_ that was hidden more than ten miles away. Samuel contemplated the journey with a sense of detachment as the undead monsters screamed behind him and gave chase through the all-enveloping smoke and debris.

Once he lost the Flood, which Samuel knew that he would, he could run at an almost-leisurely pace and still make it to the _Longsword_ in time to hide from the satellites that would be passing overhead. Then he could take off once the skies were clear. If he prepped during the downtime, he could be ready by nightfall and arrive at Silhouette Island while it was still dark.

Despite the failure that his attempt at a civilian rescue had been, Samuel King allowed a real smile to cross his face as he glanced up at the tinted sky and thanked God above for his escape from death itself. It was far from the first time he had asked for such a miracle, and somehow, the brown-armored Spartan got the feeling that it wouldn't be the last.

Even as he took his focus from the sky and looked down the desolate road ahead, with the Flood still nipping at his heels, Samuel refused to pay them his attention. He was going back to his team, the closest thing to family that any of Zulu Company had, and definitely the most important thing they had left. That much was certain, and it was plenty to keep his mind busy.

The Flood – the same parasitic monsters that were chasing him now – had taken everything that the Spartans had ever fought for. The Parasite had infiltrated their world and destroyed it from the inside out, shredding in days what it took mankind millennia to build.

And, no matter what the cost, Samuel King was determined to fight back. Most would have considered it to be through sheer bad luck that he and two others of Zulu Company had been put in a position to face the Flood on their own ground, but the brown-armored Spartan looked at it as something more than a roll of the dice. This was more than random chance. This was their chance to make a difference in this Hellish, damned world.

And he was going to make sure they took it.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Well, that's Chapter 1. All from Samuel's POV. Something new, no? Don't worry: I won't have the entire story this way, but the first few chapters will be similar. Anyway, I'll have Chapter 2 out in about a week. It's Blaine's POV, just as a heads-up. :) Be sure to let me know what you thought! And, if you have questions, feel free to ask, but don't worry too much: I'll answer everything in time. Thanks everyone!**

**- Raptor**


	3. Chapter 2: Way Of Life

**Author's Notes: Alright, finally getting around to doing this right. Reviews are below!**

**REVIEWS:**

**the_super_saiyan_jedi_again: Hey! Long time no talk! Glad to see that you're still with me! Thanks much for the kind words, and I had a question for you: you mentioned some time ago during The Last Stand that you had wondered about doing a Machinima for Zulu Company. I don't know what kind of time you've got, or if you're still up for it, but I meant to contact you about it and ask what the possibilities were. Plainly put: if you could do it, I would love to see it, and "permission" from me would be the least of your worries. ;) Thanks a lot!**

**Redflame101: lol, yeah, he's got the prototype Sentinel Beams that were mentioned during the final segment of the last book. You'll find that there are multiple "add-ons" for a few characters, all of which will be revealed in time. I'll also clarify when and where they got them later on as well. Thanks for your review!**

**Snipess: Glad to hear that you liked the first real chapter of Hell On Earth! And I agree entirely: Samuel's personality will have to have changed some in order for him to function in such a world (which, as you'll see, it has). And, to answer your question: there will be multiple "different" battles throughout the book. I won't give any away yet, but rest assured: I couldn't do an entire book of nothing but Combat and Pure Forms. I just couldn't manage. Thank you!**

**ching965: lol, you're just getting the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the Flood. Trust me. I got big plans for them before this book's up. That being said, thank you for the kind words, and enjoy what's to come! Thanks!**

**1 way ticket: lol, I'm not sure how to answer most of what you said, except with thank you!!! haha. And we've talked a little about the update and the writing style, so I won't delve into it here. Still, I'd say to enjoy what's coming, but you already have some idea, don't you beautiful? ;) Thanks, and talk to you later! :)**

**killerman83ca: It makes me laugh that you say it's getting good...take my word for it: I'm just getting warmed up. ;) Enjoy the next chapter! Thanks!**

**Mhop12: hehehe, ninja rabbits...still makes me laugh. :) And I agree with your statement: if they were packed densely (which they were) they would have quite the problem. ;) Thanks a lot!**

**Benaia Dre: Glad you liked it! I know it's kinda different for the whole thing to be one POV, but it won't happen much. Contrary to popular belief, my chapters MUST bounce all over the place on a regular basis. ;) Thanks for reviewing, Cory!**

**FireWolfFred: hehehe, everyone keeps hinting at exactly what you just said: the Flood have upped their game. I feel like, in The Last Stand, they were formidable, but not as strong as what they could have been in better circumstances. In this story, it's the Flood's turf now, and the element of surprise is the only advantage that the Spartans have. As for your question: the different secrets will be revealed not exactly at the SAME time, but close. And, to give you a general idea: give me 'til Chapter 10. Most of them should be answered by then. Thanks much!**

**Taylor114: Yeah, I thought you would enjoy the one-person POV. You seemed to enjoy the ones that were less broken up and more consistent. Still, I can't promise too many like that. It's just easy now 'cause they're all separated. That being said: thanks very much for your review, and enjoy the next chapter!**

**Barca: Ah, another person I thought would enjoy the one-man POV. ;) Like I told Taylor114 though, while it won't be the only one, it'll be much harder to do later on, 'cause I'll have the whole team together. Still, I want to focus more on the internal in this one than I did in The Last Stand, so expect less jumping around sometimes, when it suits my purposes. ;) Also, in answer to the statement about the Pyrosene: basically, Sam's killed quite a few Flood, and fire is an easy trap to set. The original plan was to either fry him inside the building, or force him out into the open where the Flood could gang up on him. While they could have charged into the house with him, he's a much greater threat in close quarters where he can limit how many he has to fight at once. Would he lose eventually? Probably. But, at the time, Pyrosene seemed a more efficient solution to the "Spartan problem," lol. Thanks for reviewing!**

**RandomMan: Sweet! I wanted the "post-apolocyptic" feel. :) Really, that's what it's come down to. The world as we know it is no more, and it's a barren wasteland teeming with dangerous, undead Parasites wanting to conquer all life. Interesting concept, no? Oh, and as for your request...well, I really can't make any promises, lol. It's hard to raise the dead in a story that's not DBZ. ;) Thanks!**

**DoctorG27: Yeah, I apologize for the length. They'll get longer, rest assured. This is the just the obligatory opening segment, ya know? And don't worry, you'll see what Ezekiel's been up soon enough. Also, no double review, so you're good. :) Thanks a lot!**

**armoured-blade: Ah, the one who leaves me the evil reviews of doom. ;) Just messin', lol. I always like good questions.  
(1) I won't be doing strictly one-person POV's for all the opening chapters. Samuel just happened to be alone. But, don't worry...everyone who knows me knows I have to include Ezekiel somewhere. ;)  
(2) And yes, that would be evil, if I left him out. And double-yes, that IS me. No comment beyond that. hehehe  
(3) You're absolutely right about Sam and the concept of the Flood trying to be efficient and kill him instead of convert him (but not necessarily for the reason you think).  
(4) The reason Samuel is looking for survivors (other than the fact that ti's Samuel and he's a die-hard humanitarian) is that anyone with even a low-grade gas mask or a decent air-filter could survive the spores themselves (though that says nothing about the REST of the Flood). The truth is, I have little information on the spores, so I took artistic license and decided that a worthwhile filter could make the air breathable. It seemed plausible, and the story would be very hard to write without that idea.  
(5) Samuel, and the rest of the Spartans in standard MJOLNIR armor (or any of Zulu's variants) have a separate air supply lasting 90 minutes in a vacuum. However, the standard MJOLNIR armor (and, again, all Zulu variants) also are sealed systems with built-in filtration systems that are, according to Halopedia: "completely effective at removing toxins and bacteria from the local atmosphere." So, that's how Zulu Company survives here, lol.  
(6) I love answering the questions! Yours and those of others, lol. It means that you're doing more than just passively reading the story. You're thinking it through and questioning why I do things as I do. And I take that as a compliment! :) Thank you much!**

**Eternity of Night: lol, thank you!**

**theD'Haran general: Wow, you flatter me, lol. And, as far as your request is concerned: the original idea to "back-up" The Last Stand and edit it has been scrapped, instead I'm going back to my original chapter files and editing them one by one. Basically, I have no "full story" document. I only have chapter files. Sorry. But again, thanks for all your compliments, and enjoy the next chapter!**

**Suliac Griffin: Glad to hear that you like it. :) Also, you really think Samuel's got an "MC" feel to him? You realize what a compliment that is? lol. Anyways, moving on, I think you'll be pleased with how the Flood "factors in", as you said, as a fighting force. As I've mentioned once or twice, I've got big, BIG plans. ;) Thanks for your review, and I hope you're as fond of what's coming up!**

**Samus117: Hey, thanks very much! To answer your question: the Flood aren't really getting "smarter", per se. They're just getting more resourceful, because they've got more to work with. At the end of The Last Stand, they only had a couple of starships to use. Now they've got a whole planet full of machines, computers, and other technologies to use against Zulu Company. Thanks again, enjoy!**

**And that's all for reviews, folks! With that out of the way, enjoy Chapter 2!**

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

– **Way Of Life –**

**2200 Hours - July 7, 2553**

**Silhouette Island - In the Indian Ocean, East of the African Coast**

"No! No! For the hundredth time: no!" Blaine drew a breath as he turned and walked toward the entrance to the Prowler, but heard the light footsteps right on his heels.

"But she's in pain," the twenty-six-year-old man argued behind him.

"It's a headache," Blaine said dismissively.

"It's more than that!" he argued. "She's barely moved in three days, and now her chest is bothering her too." With that, he ran up and stopped in front of the white-armored Spartan. "Come on," he pleaded.

Blaine shook his head. "I'm not going to that drugstore again." He said. "The Flood saw us there the first time. Where the Hell do you think they're going to be waiting this time?" He pushed forward, past the man in front of him. "We're going for food. If you can find medication while we're there, then fine. If not, oh well." He shrugged and continued walking.

"What if it's an infection?" he protested, rushing up to stand in Blaine's way once again.

For some reason, having this pathetic individual standing in his way for a second time angered Blaine to no end. "Are you a doctor?" Blaine asked cynically. "Last I checked, Scott, you're ex-Air Force. When I need help flying the Prowler, I'll call you. Until then, get the Hell out of my face!"

With that, Blaine easily pushed the man out of his way and entered the separate pressurized chamber that was used to enter and exit the Prowler. The door sealed behind him and pressurized before the thick, titanium door opposite it slid open.

Blaine scanned his surroundings as he was suddenly plunged into the depths of a dark, thick, tropical forest – the forest that owned much of Silhouette Island.

The Prowler had gone down in the middle of the jungle, it seemed, surrounded by trees and brush on all sides and dug down several feet into the dirt and mud. In one direction, the one opposite the front of the Prowler, were the cliffs that made up some of the western coast, including the hollowed-out cavern that the Phantom was currently waiting in, hidden from anyone but Blaine and the five survivors that he was watching over.

"Idiots," he growled under his breath as he glanced back at the titanium shell that had served as his home since the Flood took over the planet. Inside it were four men and a woman, all of varying ages and skills. The only truly useful one of them, an ex-ONI operative named Joel Miedema, was in his early forties and spent the majority of his time working on keeping the Prowler running. And when he wasn't working on that, he was flying the Phantom to Mahé for a food run.

The others, Scott and Jackie Hamilton, Joseph Wallace, and Robert Johnson, were not nearly as useful in Blaine's eyes.

Sure, Scott and Joseph were both good for additional hands during a food run, but that was really the extent of their usefulness.

_Which Scott shouldn't be doing anyway,_ Blaine thought bitterly. His wife, Jackie, was an ex-ODST and much better with a weapon than Scott would ever be. Unfortunately her husband, being the overprotective moron that he was, raised nine kinds of Hell when Blaine had chosen her to ride with Joseph and himself in the Warthog, claiming that there was "no reason" to subject his wife to that kind of danger and the possibility of infection.

But, in all honestly, Blaine Everson couldn't really blame the man for that. He hated it and detested it, but didn't blame Scott. The man had been a 1st Lieutenant in the UNSC Air Force when the Flood attacked Earth, and had actually refused orders to leave the planet while his wife was still fighting on the ground, trying to evacuate civilians in the city of Victoria. During the struggle, the Flood almost managed to kill her, except that Scott had finally located her and worked to fend them off until Zulu Company showed up in the nick of time to finish the job.

And Blaine had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason she obeyed him and stayed out of the food runs was because of that incident. Regardless of the reason, her husband's wishes caused her to stay confined to the Prowler and Silhouette Island while he, Miedema, and Joseph made the journey with Blaine to the island of Mahé.

The white-armored Spartan smiled at the thought of Joseph Wallace. He wasn't Spartan-material – not even close – but he would have been a more-than-capable Marine if he had ever considered it. Level-headed, amiable and in peak physical shape, the former Scottish game warden was the only one on the Prowler that Blaine could talk to for any amount of time since Ezekiel left.

His blood suddenly boiled at the thought of his ally. _Son of a bitch, _he thought, looking through the trees, out over the ocean. _You abandoned us._ And no matter how hard he tried to let it go, Blaine couldn't help but to take it personally.

Nothing had even seemed off the morning that he woke and the black-armored Spartan was nowhere to be found. It was just like him to disappear for days at a time and only come back when he'd had his time to himself. But when Blaine had visited the cavern housing the Phantom and discovered that the Choppers were gone, he was sure of what had happened. The fact that the Separatist dropship had actually moved slightly from its position the night before only proved to him what he already knew.

Ezekiel Veron had left in the middle of the night and taken the two Brute Choppers with him, probably to the island of Mahé. Why? Blaine didn't know. It was probably just one more over-dramatic decision to satisfy his thirst for solitude since Victoria died.

Since his departure, the last of the survivors, Robert, had become the single greatest bane of the biomechanical Spartan's life. A former accountant, he was a whiny, pencil-pushing pain-in-the-ass that both Ezekiel and Blaine had voted to drown the same day that they found him.

The man owed his continued existence to Samuel's intervention, and nothing else.

"Blaine," Joseph's voice echoed behind him. "We're ready to go."

The Spartan turned around to see both Joseph and Scott clad in their stolen ODST suits, including the helmets that would allow them to breathe in the toxic atmosphere that the Flood had created.

He was about to ask where Miedema was when the pressurized door to the Prowler slid open and the former ONI operative stepped out into the darkness.

The white-armored soldier nodded, double-checking his suit for all the necessities: grenades, rockets, and – of course – his Gravity Hammer. When he was satisfied that they were all there, he nodded again and turned to lead the way to the Phantom.

Blaine sighed and took one last glance around, checking the woods for any sign of life, even though he knew that he wouldn't find any. The trees were slowly drying up and dying off as the atmosphere became more tainted and blocked more and more sunlight from reaching them. Very few humans had even lived on the island before the Flood arrived, and those that had been there made a point to leave the moment word arrived of a possible invasion.

No, it was an empty, desolate land – a microcosm of what the entire planet had been reduced to in only a few short weeks.

"Come on," he said, shaking the thoughts out and walking toward the Phantom.

* * *

The four men walked to the edge of the island and then stalked along the beach, toward a series of jagged cliffs on the western edge. One such cliff, they'd found, had been hollowed out by the ocean waves, and that made for a perfect hiding place for their commandeered Separatist Phantom.

This was all due to sheer luck, obviously, as Joseph had simply been wandering around the cliffs when he'd stumbled upon a cave. Being the 'adventurous' type, he had decided to explore it, and he'd found that it connected to an enormous cavern overlooking the water that gathered at the bottom of the concave rock.

Scott sighed at the thought as Blaine and Joseph talked quietly a few meters in front of him and Miedema walked in silence directly behind them. He knew that the Spartan would rather have Jackie following along than him, but Scott simply couldn't agree to it, not after what could have happened on Mahé-

"Hamilton," Blaine said suddenly, his harsh tone resounding in Scott's helmet. "You're in back this time."

Scott's eyes went wide. Blaine was referring to the Troop Transport Warthog that they would load with food before speeding away from the city. Riding in the back meant two things: first, it meant that keeping the food in the back would be Scott's job.

Second – and more importantly – it meant that Scott would be taking the brunt of the enemy fire on the return trip.

"Yes sir," he answered.

"Stop calling me that." Blaine growled.

Scott nodded and immediately began steeling himself for the ride before they had even entered the caverns. He had never been particularly enthusiastic about the UNSC, or any of its military branches, but had joined the Air Force on a whim, looking for work and knowing that, with the war going on, they could use all the help that they could get.

He'd met his wife through the military and made a decent living up until the time that the Flood had arrived. After a time, he'd gotten so used to it all that he felt like maybe he could make some kind of a difference. But, now, with the Flood on the island right next to them and his wife more skilled in combat than he was, he felt less adequate than ever.

The four men entered the caves through a narrow opening partially hidden by brush and a fallen tree and walked in silence for several minutes as they stalked through the quarter-mile-long tunnel that linked to the giant cavern.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of Scott trying to ready himself for the trip to and from the island of Mahé, they emerged at one end of the cave, staring out at the mouth and the water outside.

The Phantom was safely stored on a wide ledge off to the right, with the Troop Transport 'Hog sitting right beside it.

Blaine's tone was as cold as ever; the demeanor that he always had when there was work to be done had taken over. "Let's go." He said plainly, walking over and fastening the Warthog to the bottom of the Phantom with their makeshift clamps and hooks. Normally, the alien dropship would hold Covenant vehicles in place with anti-gravity technology, but Blaine had told them all on day one that he didn't trust a single Covenant invention, save for perhaps the Gravity Hammer.

When the vehicle was well-secured, the Spartan opened one hatch of the Dropship and led Scott, Miedema and Joseph inside, closing it behind them.

"No helmets off yet," Miedema said, walking to the opposite side of the craft and punching keys on a terminal. The gasses inside the Phantom were suddenly sucked through a series of improvised filters all around the craft. Blaine and Ezekiel had thoroughly searched Victoria for something capable of purifying the air weeks before, and finally gotten lucky enough to find one.

Moments later, when the gasses were allowed to permeate the inside of the dropship once again, they were filtered and purified from Flood spores, making air that was – while breathable – still not exactly pleasant. "Alright," the Spartan said, "go ahead."

Joseph had his mask off in a second, taking a deep breath as he shook his head. "Holy Hell," he said, "hate those damn things."

Scott sighed as he removed his ODST-styled helmet and breathed in the stale, dry air. He almost preferred the filters inside the ODST helmet to the old ones in the Phantom but, at the same time, he liked the freedom of not wearing the dark helm.

So did Miedema, it seemed, because the former spook had his helmet off only seconds later and was already inputting commands into the Phantom.

Blaine, however, left his own helmet on, as he always did. The only time the white helm came off was when he was at rest in the Prowler. Scott found it odd that, while his own helmet felt so alien to him, the Spartan's acted almost as an extension of his own body. Each piece of armor was a part of him that, if Scott didn't know better, he would think that the Spartan felt vulnerable without.

Before he had time to put any real thought into it, however, Joseph pulled out a datapad taken from the Prowler and turned it on. A large, detailed map of the city of Victoria appeared on-screen. "Which one?" he asked plainly.

Blaine stepped over and looked at the screen for only a split-second before pointing loosely at the bottom-left corner. "There." He said. "We'll hit that one."

"Plan?"

"Same as always," the Spartan answered. "I'll drive. You two in the back," he looked first at Joseph and then at Scott. "I'll pick you back up on the way back through."

Joseph nodded. "Anything specific we're looking for?"

Scott was about to say something about medicine, but stopped dead in his tracks when the white-armored Spartan seemed to glance his way.

"Yeah," the Spartan said coldly, "keep an eye out for antibiotics and pain-killers." He paused as if to gauge Scott's reaction, looking right at him. Then, after mere seconds, he added, "it's a multi-purpose structure: food, pharmacy, fuel, the works. Grab what you can, but stick to the schedule. Comprende?"

"Sounds good," Joseph said, nodding.

"Yes sir," Scott said.

"And stop calling me sir, damn it!"

* * *

It was a short ride, as usual, to the island of Mahé. Silhouette was only about twenty kilometers out from the larger island, and the Phantom could cover that distance in no time at all.

But, to Blaine, every second was another eternity.

The world had changed. It no longer mattered that the Marines, the ODST's, Zulu Company and, of course, the Master Chief, had fended off the Covenant and the Flood several months before. It no longer mattered that humanity had survived the assaults on their home planet and even started to rebuild their home against all odds.

None of it mattered.

And that, for the members of Zulu Company, wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was that, while the Flood were waiting in space, biding their time and preparing for their great assault on the planet Earth, Zulu Company had been forced to sit idle, waiting and watching. Their training and intelligence, teamwork and firepower…it was all rendered useless before the force that was the Parasite.

Sure, they had tried to defend individual bases as best they could, but what did it matter if they kept Zanzibar? Or Madagascar? Or Mahé? Or any city? What did it matter in the grand scheme of things if even one continent could be saved? Eventually, inevitably…the Flood would amass their forces and take it.

And they would kill everyone.

The Phantom slowed to a stop as it hovered over the trees three-quarters of a mile outside the city of Victoria. Cloaked and electronically invisible, even Blaine felt fairly secure within its holding bay.

The craft finally came to a stop and the three soldiers accompanying Blaine had their helmets back on and secured in an instant. They all gave the thumbs-up, and Miedema opened the hatch.

Blaine stepped through without a word and hit the ground in almost complete silence. He approached the 'Hog, which was being held to the Phantom less than a full foot off the ground, and unfastened the clamps, letting it fall to the dirt with a thud.

"Get in." The white-armored Spartan got into the driver's seat and waited for Joseph and Scott to get securely into the back of the 'Hog. He focused on the Phantom. "Miedema," he said, "same drill as usual. Any problems, take it home. Come back in forty eight."

"Understood," the ex-operative answered. Blaine knew from his tone that, if anything were to happen, he would do exactly that, down to the letter, and it somehow gave the biomechanical soldier a small sense of reassurance.

"We're set." Joseph said from behind him.

Blaine allowed a smile to creep at the edges of his face. "Then let's roll."

* * *

The drive into Victoria was two things, if nothing else: short, and scary as Hell. Even to Joseph Wallace, it was something that gave him chills as his eyes focused on almost unnoticeable shadows in the darkness surrounding the Warthog, any of which could be a group of Flood Combat Forms preparing to strike.

But he and Scott had one thing working to their advantage: the eight-foot-tall, biomechanical monster of a soldier that was sitting only feet away from them; the one that was driving the LRV at high speeds through the dirt roads of the jungle in the dead of night, seemingly oblivious or uncaring to the unyielding roar that the Warthog made as it progressed toward the infested city.

After less than two minutes, the headlights from the Warthog began to hit the more reflective surfaces that made up Victoria: metal, glass-

"We got company." Blaine said harshly. "That was fast."

He swerved hard left to dodge a Combat Form that was suddenly screaming as it landed on the road just to the vehicle's right. Before Joseph could even register what had happened, the undead creature brought an SMG up and began unloading on the back of the Warthog.

"Down!" Blaine shouted, swerving again as another Combat Form hit the ground beside them before fading into the distant blackness as the 'Hog picked up speed. "Put on your seatbelts. It's gonna be one Hell of a ride!"

Unfortunately, the rear of the Troop-Transport didn't have seatbelts, so Scott and Joseph were forced to simply grab the steel bars that lined the top of the "cage" and brace themselves against the back of the driver's and passenger's seats as the vehicle swerved back and forth and sped up again and again.

"How far?" Joseph yelled, gripping the rails tighter as something collided with the 'Hog on the opposite side, threatening to tip it over. Thankfully, Blaine managed to keep it balanced.

"Fifteen seconds," the Spartan answered, "then jump. I'll be back for you in ninety seconds. If you're spotted, let me know and we bail." He paused. "Questions?"

"None."

"Got it."

"Good," he said, and the Warthog slowed down ever-so-slightly as it rounded the corner of a giant, twelve-story structure. "It's on the right! Go!"

And they jumped.

* * *

Blaine gritted his teeth, accelerating the Warthog as fast as he could to cover his tracks and mask the fact that he had slowed considerably for about four seconds. He had to hope that the Flood wouldn't notice and would continue to chase him.

The only advantage that he had was that the Flood couldn't see into the back of the 'Hog very well in the pitch-dark night, and the two men had been fairly well concealed there until they bailed.

Something hit the back of the Warthog, and Blaine suddenly could hear the terrible scream that sounded like it was emanating from right behind his skull.

He checked the rear-view mirror-

And immediately realized he was right. The Combat Form had leapt onto the back of the 'Hog and was slowly inching its way up to him from the "cage" that covered the back of the vehicle. Blaine smiled.

He slammed the brake and the creature flew forward, crashing through the windshield and skidding onto the hood, where it managed to get a grip and hold on, the entire time looking up at him with its dead glare and screaming like a banshee.

"Off my 'Hog, freak." Blaine growled, reaching forward with his left hand and grabbing the creature by one of its disgusting tentacles before ripping it right off the front of the LRV.

He had just turned back to the road when he saw something he hadn't prepared for.

It looked exactly like Samuel had described the creature that he and Magnus had encountered aboard the Covenant _CCS_ after they left the Assault Carrier. The monster stood approximately seventeen feet tall and looked vaguely like a Tank Form, except that its legs were slightly longer and looked deformed. Those repulsive feelers sprouted from the top if its chest, where instead of arms, it had two insanely long, jet-black tentacles that ended in what appeared to be sharp claws.

Blaine scowled, looking at the giant alien as he drove toward it without slowing down. When he was sure it wasn't going to move, he used his left hand to steer and calmly took the Rocket Launcher and placed it on his right shoulder.

"You're in my way," he said calmly as he took aim with the weapon. A moment later, he fired.

The rocket sped ahead of the 'Hog and the Juggernaut moved its tentacles in front of its disgusting abdomen in an "X" shape, with the cross of it right being right where the rocket would hit-

BOOM!

The explosion echoed incredibly loudly in the blackness that shrouded the almost-silent streets of Victoria, and through the dense smoke that was coming from the impact, Blaine could almost see the form of the giant creature, completely unfazed.

But he'd counted on that.

He threw the launcher into the passenger's seat and took the wheel with his right hand while he primed a Spike Grenade in his left.

When he had driven directly into the smoke and was sure he was about to hit the Juggernaut, Blaine swerved slightly to the right and held his left arm out as far is it would go, holding the grenade out even farther and waiting for-

It caught the alien's flesh on the way by and was jerked from the Spartan's hand in an instant. And, the moment that Blaine felt the explosive be ripped from his fingers, he grabbed a Firebomb, held it in his left hand, and threw it straight backwards at the spot where he had just lost the last explosive.

A single blast was all that could be heard as the small, lethal spikes flew at high speeds in all directions, impaling the Juggernaut in a dozen places even as the Firebomb hit its disgusting body from behind and splashed burning liquid all across its back.

Blaine immediately hit the brakes and spun the Warthog around, only taking a second to glance into the smoke before speeding back the way he had come, running over the newly-made corpse on the way.

* * *

"Ninety seconds is up!" Joseph shouted, stuffing another half-dozen canned foods into the bag he was carrying and turning toward the door of the abandoned market. "Scott, let's go!"

"I'm coming!" he shouted back, but Joseph saw him reach down and grab additional bottles of medicine from the pharmacy section.

Joseph scowled. It was time to leave. If they were late, Blaine would leave them both. That was the deal.

"Come on, damn it!" he shouted. "Let's get a move on!"

"One second!" Scott shouted back.

"Damn it, Scott!" Joseph growled, running over to the ex-Lieutenant. He grabbed his arm. "Now!"

Scott nodded, threw another bottle into the bag, and turned with Joseph toward the door. No sooner had they started moving, however, than they were stopped in their tracks.

There were eight of them, standing directly between them and the doorway.

Combat Forms.

"Go," Joseph said, handing Scott the bag and bringing his Shotgun to bear. "I'll keep you covered." He fired a round into the nearest undead creature and it hit the floor in a heap.

"No," Scott said, "we leave together." He stepped closer to Joseph, who shoulder-checked him and almost knocked him off balance.

"Get the Hell away from me!" he said. "No reason for both of us to die in this Hellhole. You got a wife back on Silhouette." He smiled. "You just let me deal with these bastards." He pumped the Shotgun.

"No way," Scott said, "that's-"

"Touching as this is," Blaine's voice suddenly echoed inside their helmets, "I'm not leaving either of your sorry asses, so prep for EVAC, and I mean right now."

Joseph glanced at Scott as the Combat Forms stepped closer and the two soldiers backed up.

"What does he mean by prep?" Scott asked.

"Hell if I kn-"

CRASH!

The large window that made up one side of the front of the market suddenly exploded as the Warthog crashed through it, driving straight over one Combat Form as Blaine reached his arm out and clotheslined one unfortunate enough to be standing too close.

Even as the Warthog skidded to a stop in front of them, the remaining Combat Forms were charging-

And Blaine was already out.

He pulled the Gravity Hammer up and eased into a fighting stance.

And the five remaining creatures never knew what hit them.

The first two came at the same time, and Blaine grabbed one by the tentacles and threw it to the ground before stepping on its abdomen and shoving the handle-end of the hammer directly into the feeler-stuffed chest of the other.

A third one came, but it arrived before the last two, and Joseph knew that it didn't have a dog's chance in Hell. Before the alien could even contemplate striking, Blaine had covered the six feet left between them and shoved his head into the former human's skull, knocking it off balance before swinging the hammer's handle down low and literally taking its legs out from under it. In one swift motion, he brought the head of the bludgeon up above him-

BOOM!

The Gravity Hammer crashed onto the fallen Combat Form, eradicating it as well as creating an altered sphere of gravity that obliterated one of the last two that had been too close to the impact and sending the final monster crashing into the wall of the store.

Blaine abruptly turned to face the Joseph and Scott. "Get in." He said.

* * *

Joel Miedema was beginning to get more than a little anxious when he saw the Warthog's headlights bouncing up and down in the forest of Mahé and finally got word from Blaine again.

"It's us," the Spartan said bluntly. "We leave immediately. It's gonna be hot."

"Understood," Joel said, firing up the Phantom's cloaking and electronic countermeasures before fully activating the rest of the systems. In ten seconds, the craft was ready and rearing to fly. "We're set to go." He said into the intercom.

Blaine's response was a simple, "good."

After twenty more seconds, the Warthog pulled up and parked directly underneath the Phantom, and Joel activated the craft's miniature gravity lift, holding the 'Hog in place beneath it as the rest of the crew jumped in through the hatch. Joseph and Scott, as usual, were carrying large bags of food and supplies.

"Looks like you guys had a good run."

"Less talking," Blaine snapped. "We gotta go now."

Joel nodded and the Phantom instantly lifted off from the island, moving stealthily toward Silhouette, completely invisible to even the Flood in the pitch dark night.

"Thank you," Scott said suddenly, looking at Blaine.

Joseph echoed his statement, nodding and breathing heavily.

"Forget it." Blaine said. "If I lose you, it's just me, Miedema, your wife," he looked right at Scott as he said the words with disdain, "and that damned accountant."

* * *

The return-trip to Silhouette took twice the time that the departure had, but Blaine was used to it. They always had to travel randomly for a while to ensure that none of the Flood's revolting horde managed to find their little home away from home.

When they finally did arrive, however, something was different, and the white-armored Spartan knew it even before he saw a _Longsword_ parked inside the cave a dozen meters from where the Phantom landed.

Scott and Joseph were immediately armed and looking for a threat, but Blaine only smiled, grabbing the two bags full of supplies and draping them over one shoulder with an ease that made the two men beside him look like weaklings. Even Miedema, upon exiting the Phantom, drew his weapon, waiting.

"Put 'em away," Blaine said casually. He raised his voice, glancing all around the cave. "Good to see you made it back."

The words echoed loudly around the cavern and, as expected, a single shape stepped out from the darkness. The armor was dark-colored, and Blaine couldn't suppress a grin as his teammate walked up to him.

"It's good to be back." Samuel answered, grabbing one of the bags and putting it over his shoulder. Before the biomechanical soldier could respond, the larger Spartan looked around, seeming puzzled. Then, he looked right at Blaine. "Where's Zeke?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: Well, that's Chapter 2. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! Seriously, the whole goal of this kind of opening is so that everyone is on the same page as I am (if you're not, it'll be kinda hard to read, lol). Hope you enjoyed it, and I'll try to keep my deadlines next time. ;) Please reveiw for me if you get a chance, and take it easy!**

**- Raptor**


	4. Chapter 3: Broken

**Author's Notes: Yeah, I know, I know...things got really hectic in the last two weeks. For starters: I FINALLY GOT A FREAKIN JOB! Good for me, bad for you, as it takes time away from writing. I'm still doing it though, rest assured. And, please be patient with me, as - since I'm re-doing parts of The Last Stand - I'm kinda trying to keep up progress on two books at once. It's...kind of challenging, lol.**

**OH, and before I forget: Happy Birthday to me (as of the 19th)!!! That's part of the reason I'm so late posting...I lost two days of work-time for family-time (which I enjoyed), and a great day at Cedar Point, courtesy of my girlfriend (thank you much, beautiful).**

**So...for those of you cursing my name for the delay...I'm sorry. Just remember though: if you kill me, the book never ends. ;)**

**Now, moving on, Reviews!**

**REVIEWS:**

**armoured-blade: Hey! First of all, I should tell you: I would never deprive you of a Zeke-chapter. That would just be cruel. ;) Oh, and just a note: he doesn't "drive" two of them at once. He took both of them underneath the Phantom when he left (this was the note that was made about the Phantom having moved from its previous position, though I guess now that I could have done better at clarifying that). As for Gael: you'll know, in time. Like I said: give me half-a-dozen chapters or so, and you'll have all the answers you want. Patience is a virtue, my friend. ;) Gracias for the compliments, and I hope you like the chapter that people have been bugging me about for a month. hehehe. ;)**

**killerman83ca: I don't mind if you use some of what I have down, as long as it's not my plot or my characters. As for your comment on the Elites: well, I have plans for them, but they're not yet in motion. You will see them...eventually, however. Thank you much!**

**Centralion: Hi! Just to answer your comment about the UNSC blasting Earth: the reason that they haven't in this story is simply because the end of the war (particularly the space-battle from The Last Stand and the fighting around the Ark from H3) took a great toll on their warships and they currently don't have the firepower to blast the planet. However, I'll do more to address this next chapter and in the three or four that follow. Thanks for your review!**

**ching965: Well, you're going to get your answer as to what Zeke's been up to. ;) Also, to answer your question about the Flood: as far as I know, they'll eat anything with biomass. That being said, Earth is simply their gathering point for forces right now. They hit it with everything they had left after the Ark (which wasn't much, only a few ships), and now they're just biding time. Basically, they've got plenty of biomass from people and animals and whatever else, and they don't really need to resort to opening cans or boxes yet. Thanks very much, and I hope you enjoy this. :)**

**BETAZ: lol, thanks, but...I've actually never read The Master Chief Saves Christmas, so no, I guess I didn't. :) I suppose I should check it out?**

**the D'Haran general: lol, thanks much for the compliments! Enjoy the next chapter!**

**Mhop12: hehehe, yep, that accountant...that useless accountant. ;) Anyways, yeah, I heard the same thing about the Juggernaut, except that you could also fight them by modding an X-Box (something I have no idea how to do). Meh...I know how I've portrayed them, and I really want no part of it anyway. ;) Thanks!**

**Taylor114: lol, sorry! I promise, you'll get more answers (and fewer questions) as I go along! Anyways, not too much to say here, except that I'm glad someone likes the individuals that the Spartans are responsible for. Enjoy the next chapter!**

**Redflame101: lol, yeah, Zeke took two Choppers. He's mean like that. Also, to answer your question: Stephanie, Landon, Jason, and Nova Company were sent into space at the conclusion of the ground-based portion of the end of The Last Stand. They were on seek-and-destroy missions for Flood-controlled ships, and they have not yet returned. But give me a few chapters. ;)**

**ikldmrogers: Hey, no worries on the last chapter...I'm sorry I didn't post for two weeks, lol. Thank you for the compliments (as always). And yeah...Blaine is so good that it's scary. ;) What can you do? He's a biomechanical killing machine that never tires, never quits, and never bores of beating aliens to a pulp. :) Oh, and as to your question about when you get to hear from Ezekiel:  
****Right now.  
Enjoy!**

**Sirkillalot23: Hey, thanks for the grammar-catch. :) I apologize...I have my moments, lol. Thanks for the review!**

**DoctorG27: hehehe, yeah...no giant groups of angry Flood yet. Soon though, definitely soon. :) Enjoy the next chapter!**

**The Not-So Addict: Well, you gave it to me in parts, so I'll in parts. :)  
1. Gracias!  
2. The Flood haven't really gotten much "smarter," but they have a lot more to work with now. In all the games, when you fight them, they have a numerical advantage, and that's about it. They're almost always trying to take something, or be on the offensive. This was my chance to change the game and make them not only numerically superior, but also with technology and strategy.  
3. Well, the church wasn't the largest building in the entire city, just that area. By comparison to say, the commercial district, it'd be rather small. Although, you're absolutely right about the word choice, and that SHOULD have been "obvious"...Microsoft Word has failed to catch my grammatically-correct errors. ;)  
4. I don't think that the Flood mind radioactivity. I honestly have no real clue. The games and books don't address it, so I just assume that it has little effect on them in minor doses. And, in this case, the fire and explosions will kill everything nearby before the radioactivity can do...much of anything.  
5. When I said a "two-story" house, I mean a house with two standard floors, and I pictured it with ceiling sloping upward, into a peak (standard housing, you know). So, assuming each floor is roughly eight-feet from top to bottom, that's more than twice his size with the roof. That was what I was trying to convey, however sad it came out, lol.  
6. I Firebomb would help greatly against the Flood, but Samuel doesn't have much in the way of options, and he doesn't have any of them on him. He's not properly armed, as you would ideally want to be, but part of that is because he's been out on his own for over a month.  
7. See, this was my fault. Zeke didn't get to Mahe' ON Choppers. He used the Phantom to take him there and attached the two Brute vehicles to the bottom. This was what I tried to imply when I mentioned that the Phantom had moved from its position from the night before. That's my bad for not clarifying. Oh, and as for WHY he took two: he's an inconsiderate pain. :)  
8. Don't worry about the constructive criticism, you know I love a straight answer. :) If you like it, that's great. If not, I'd rather hear why not than be falsly praised for it. Thanks very much for the review, and enjoy what's to come!**

**iamzultan: hehehe, thanks for the compliments. Also, good news: you get to find out what happened to Zeke right now. :) Thanks for reviewing for me!**

**Samus 117: hehe, yeah...Blaine knows what he's doing. Remember: he's been at this for a month now, on his own. He's gotten pretty good. :) Also, to answer your questions:  
1. Zeke...well, read on, and you'll find out. ;)  
2. The Master Chief is...wherever he was at the end of Halo 3. He's yet to be found. As for Nova and the rest of Zulu: they're in space still. Don't worry though...they'll be back.  
Thanks for your review! Enjoy!**

**FireWolfFred: lol, you might be glad I missed the deadline, but I sure am not. I can't stand being late. Still, glad you enjoyed it, and I can't wait to see what everyone thinks of the "twists" in their personalities, as you called them. This will be a more "mentally-challenging" story for the Spartans, and new sides will show. Also, Zeke's chapter is right here for you. :) Thanks very much!**

**RandomMan: You have an intriguing idea for Victoria...but, I've kinda got my plot set out to a "T" already, and I can't really venture too far from it (which, if I do what you're saying and bring her back from a Flood spore...well, I'm venturing way off the beaten path, lol). Don't worry though...I've got big plans for her memory. No details yet though. ;) Thanks a lot for reviewing!**

**xcavars: Gracias. And, to answer your Zeke question: he's right here. :) Read on. Also, at the end of the ground-portion of The Last Stand, Landon, Jason, and Stephanie, along with Nova Company, were sent into space on a seek-and-destroy mission for Flood-controlled ships. They have not yet returned to Earth (as I'll explain in greater detail next chapter), but will soon. Thanks, and enjoy Chapter 3!**

**WOW, with that all out of the way, I give you Chapter 3, focused on the one and only Ezekiel Veron. ;)**

**Enjoy.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 3:**

– **Broken –**

**2100 Hours - July 8, 2553**

**Victoria, Mahé - Sychelles Islands, East Of Africa**

Thousands of drops of borderline-toxic rain fell over the island of Mahé as the outline of the sun grew dimmer and dimmer behind Earth's tinted atmosphere. Even as the star gave up its claim of the day, it felt to the Spartan standing in the forest as though the night's death-grip had already taken hold.

Ezekiel painfully tossed the last bit of dirt on the hole at his feet before gripping the wooden handle tighter in his hands. He felt his hands squeeze harder and harder until it splintered, and then he threw the shovel spade-first into the ground.

Then, out of nowhere, he fell to his knees, punching the grass-covered ground again and again as the storm raged on around him. Somehow, of all the holes that he had committed himself to digging since arrived on Mahé – burying Lotus Anti-Tank and Antlion Anti-Personnel Mines, hiding C12 charges in the floors of countless structures, and even going so far as to dig himself a hiding place in the forest if things ever hit their lowest point – nothing could compare to the hole that he had just finished.

The girl had never had a chance. Neither had her father, her mother-

Zeke stopped himself, lest he should stoop to a new level of shame and let tears grip him for a second time since the events on the Assault Carrier. He slammed his fist into the ground again, the events of the previous hour a complete blur, like an old movie that had been played too many times until it skipped around almost randomly, focusing on individual scenes and ignoring the rest.

That was what the Spartan's mind was doing now.

He watched in horror as both the girl's parents died, taken in seconds by a surprise attack that he hadn't even seen coming. Her brother was next, and as Ezekiel went to help the boy, a single Infection Form jumped onto the girl-

He suddenly didn't know where he was. Somewhere in the woods, but that was all that he knew for certain, walking aimlessly through the jungle.

Before the Spartan could blink, he was on his knees in the middle of a major street in the center of the city. The rain was still pouring down, impacting with his energy shields and hissing against the ground. Lightning split the sky and thunder resounded with a force reminiscent of the Anti-Matter Charges used on the Training Ground so long ago.

Ezekiel Veron clenched his fists and looked up at the pitch-dark sky. "What do you want from me?" he roared. "What did I do to warrant this?" He had yelled with everything he had, and the Spartan forced himself to calm slightly, looking down at his hands, panting. "What's happened to me? Why can't I…" Images of the family that he had tried to save suddenly popped into his mind. As he forced them out, another face – this one female – invaded his conscious thoughts, and it nearly broke him. Then he was shouting again. "What's wrong with me?"

And then, standing there in the rain with his breath coming in ragged gasps, the black-armored soldier finally gave up. He yelled as loudly as he could, looking for any sign of the undead monstrosities that he knew literally infested the city, the same forces that he had waged a small war with only hours before.

"Come on!" he shouted, pulling off his helmet and throwing it to the ground. Now the rain was hitting his hair and the back of his neck, and he could feel the burning sensations as the chemicals reacted with his flesh. "You want me? I'm right here!" He hit his knees again, struggling to hold any composure at all as his roars died down into pathetic, miserable pleas. "Come on," he said in just over a whisper. "This is what you want, isn't it? I'm right-"

* * *

Ezekiel Veron bolted from his sleeping position on the bed, sitting straight up and feeling his breath come in short, painful gasps. He was drenched in sweat and his entire body ached like it had after he was captured on the Assault Carrier.

"Damn it all," he growled, trying to slow his breathing as he collapsed back down onto the pillow, clenching and unclenching his fists. The various small scars on the back of his neck were burning almost as badly as the long-healed gash across his chest.

"Bad dreams again?" a male voice echoed from one corner of the pitch-dark room. A second later, the chamber was permeated with a dim, blue light as Demon arose from the holotank mounted to a laptop computer in the corner of the room.

Zeke squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. A holographic image of a well-built man in his twenties was perched above the stand, clad in jeans, a white collared shirt, and a dark leather jacket. The man had spiked hair and, to top it all off, dark, glowing red eyes. Ezekiel could see the black rims of a pair of sunglasses sticking up from the shirt's pocket.

"That's the avatar you decided on?" The black-armored Spartan asked skeptically, ignoring the dream for the moment as his breathing started to slow.

"What?" Demon asked, sounding hurt. "I suppose I should walk around shirtless like you?" The AI pointed loosely at Ezekiel, who was clothed only in gym shorts. He paused for a moment, then added with genuine concern, "you really don't like it?"

"The entire wardrobe just screams asshole," Zeke muttered. "If that's what you were going for, then I'd say you hit the target dead-on."

"Moving on," Demon said angrily, obviously annoyed but still ignoring the jab. "Bad dream?"

Ezekiel growled at the mention of the nightmare and pushed himself off the bed. The moment he touched the ground, the blue light from the tank brightened until he could easily make out the details of the room he called his own.

There wasn't much to it. His laptop and the attached holotank sat in one corner. Beside them, two mock-Energy Swords sat propped against the wall. Both were exact replicas of an activated blade, except that they were made of a combination of lead and titanium. The biggest difference was their weight, which topped the scales at about four-hundred pounds.

The only other possessions in the room were Ezekiel's MJOLNIR armor, in the corner opposite the Spartan's bed, and Victoria's necklace with a vine-sheathed cross on it, hanging on the wall above the bed.

Other than that, it was a bare chamber with a single, reinforced, cast-iron doorway and one vent in the corner that Ezekiel had personally fitted with an improvised filter to cleanse whatever oxygen came in.

The structure had, at one point, been a large industrial facility. But, when the Flood took Mahé for themselves, it was reduced to a well-located hiding place with hundreds of rooms and reinforced steel walls and floors.

And as far as Ezekiel Veron was concerned, it was Heaven.

"Yes," he said finally as he stretched, "bad dream." He hit the floor and began his morning exercises. In between pushups he asked, "what time is it?"

"Oh-seven-hundred," Demon answered.

Ezekiel scowled. The sun wouldn't even be fully visible outside. "Hell," he said, "I shouldn't be up yet." He put one arm behind his back and continued. A one-handed pushup, when Zulu Company had first started their training in basic, was nigh-impossible for Ezekiel, but Samuel had shown him more than once how it was done. Eventually, he'd gotten the hang of it.

Now it was a favorite wake-up workout.

"Agreed," Demon said. "Why don't you call it a late morning and go back to bed for a couple of hours?"

"And resume that dream where I left off?" Zeke asked. "To Hell with that." He switched arms and kept going. Then, eager to change the subject from his dream, he spoke again. "You find anything in those files?"

Demon was silent for a few seconds. "Not much," he said. "The usual: if it mentions Victoria, it only refers to blood-draws and "hypothetical" tests that never made it beyond the proposal stages." He paused. "If I didn't know better, I'd say they followed standard procedure to the letter."

"Yeah," the Spartan snapped, "because they're known for that, right?" He stood up and arched his back, cracking it. "Damn it I'm tired."

"No comment," Demon said.

"For a change," Zeke quipped. He grabbed the two mock Energy Swords and walked toward the door before Demon started whistling. "What?" he snapped.

"Not taking me with you?" The AI asked.

Ezekiel rolled his eyes. He had adjusted to the very little light present, so he didn't need the AI for the moment, but it couldn't hurt anything to bring him along. "Fine," the Spartan said, and grabbed the laptop, taking it and the two blades into the next room.

This one was almost identical to the last, except that it had two doorways: one leading to Ezekiel's room, the other into to a narrow hallway with multiple doors and stairways. Lastly, this room had a single, man-sized window that overlooked the easternmost city of Victoria.

Zeke sat the laptop down on the floor. Two seconds later, Demon rose from the attached panel once again. "Still think using a room with a window was a stupid idea," the AI quipped.

"Notice how I didn't ask." Zeke answered bitterly, looking down at the streets thirteen stories below before glancing toward the sun, which was just now starting to make its appearance on the horizon.

In truth, Demon was probably right: using a room with a window – especially one that size – was one of the most foolish things that Ezekiel allowed himself to do. But he didn't care. He was careful, for the most part, and the window was located well. For one thing, it was high enough that none of the Flood's hideous soldiers would be able to see him from the ground unless he stood right up against it.

Second, and more importantly, there were no structures within view that were high enough to be eye-level with the window.

And Ezekiel had grown fond of the view in the mornings and evenings, on the rare occasion he was home and awake for them.

He sighed loudly, forcing the thoughts out. "Music, now."

Demon complied, and a combination of words and notes began emanating from the laptop's speakers.

_…city walls ain't got no love for me. I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story…_

Zeke took a deep breath and gripped the two blades tighter, holding them at his sides and closing his eyes, still trying to fully recover from the nightmare that had awakened him. He waited there, listening and slowing his pulse and his breathing back to their normal levels.

_And teach me wrong from right. And I'll show you what I can be…_

Every fiber of his body tightened as he began the daily regiment with the swords, thrusting them forward before swinging them up and over his head and flipping backwards to land flat on his feet. The moves were deliberate, calculated, and methodical: something practiced hundreds of times over in recent weeks. Ezekiel had it down to a science, working at every turn to perfect whatever forms he could find faults in.

_And all I scream for you…Hurry, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin'…_

He tucked the swords up against his thighs, drew a breath, and jumped forward, flipping backwards once…twice…three times before landing on his feet and resuming his movements. Even as the blades began to grow heavier in his hands, he gripped them tighter and thrust them out in front of him in a jab-like movement, once…twice…three times…four times…

With the right blade, he spun around and-

The music abruptly stopped.

"Demon!" he shouted. "What the Hell are you doing?"

"I found something." The AI answered matter-of-factly. "Come look at this."

Ezekiel scowled, setting the blades against the wall and stalking over to the closed laptop. He opened it up and saw line after line of white text scrolling across a blue screen.

"Yeah," he said sarcastically, "this is helpful. What the Hell am I looking for?"

"Here," Demon answered, and the screen stopped.

"What is it?" the Spartan asked, reading. From what he could tell, it was a record of statistics. They referred to reaction-times, muscle improvement, sense-enhancement-

"It's ONI's best analysis," Demon answered, "of the effects of Flood infection on a Spartan II." He paused. "The tests cover everything: speed, reaction time, neural capacity with or without an AI-"

"This is ridiculous." Ezekiel shook his head in disbelief. The numbers were unbelievable. If the data before him was correct, and infected Spartan would have a reaction time that faster than his own, unrivaled strength…speed that was-

The laptop suddenly emitted an annoying beep and minimized the file, instead showing Ezekiel a heat-sensitive picture of the city of Victoria from an overhead satellite. He scowled when he saw almost two-dozen red images moving quickly down one of the streets, with a pair of dots barely managing to stay ahead of the pack.

"More survivors," Demon said calmly, without an ounce of care or compassion in his tone. "And the Flood are right on their asses."

Zeke nodded and walked over to the window. Down below, he saw two individuals emerge from behind an office building down the street before turning his direction and taking off on a dead sprint. Both appeared to be adults, or very near it, and the Spartan watched dispassionately as they fired their guns blindly behind them, clearly aware of the futility of their escape attempt.

"How many?" Zeke asked casually, watching the two, who he could now identify to be a man and a woman. The sight was nothing new to him anymore. He'd watched more than a dozen such survivors die since the last time he had tried to intervene and save anyone from the Flood.

It was all just a part of life now.

"Twenty," Demon said. "They must be lightly armed, for the Flood to send so few. Either that, or they're planning to head them off." He paused. "I don't suppose you're going to make an exception and help these two?"

Ezekiel said nothing, only scoffed bitterly and turned away from the window.

* * *

Travis Wilks could barely believe how things had turned out. His family – himself, his mother, and his father – had survived the Flood's massive invasion and lived on their own in the depths of the infested city of Victoria for weeks. They had stayed hidden, stayed smart, and – most importantly – stayed calm.

And now, it seemed, with his mother running beside him as fast as she could go to try and outrun the two-dozen undead monsters behind them, that this would be their last day.

"I can't…keep going…" she said, panting as she fired the Assault Rifle blindly behind her and her pace slowed slightly. Travis scowled. He might have been a seventeen-year-old athlete, but his mother was in her late thirties and far from peak physical condition. Sure, she looked the part, but half a dozen major illnesses had made it to where it was next to impossible for her to physically strain herself for any significant length of time.

"Come on," he said, trying to coax her farther. "We can make it."

He knew it was a lie though. They had both been breathing in the tainted, sickening air for several minutes already, and his lungs felt as if they would explode-

Her legs suddenly gave out, and she fell forward.

Travis stopped in a second and was with her, trying to help her up, to ease her back to a standing position, but it was no use.

They were coming.

There were almost twenty of them that he could see, and all of them closing in faster than they could make up the distance, even if she could get up and run again…which he knew now that she couldn't.

Travis did the only thing he could do: he turned and leveled his Shotgun, and when the first of the undead terrors was within range, he blew its upper body to smithereens and racked the pump for the next monster.

"Go Travis!" she shouted. "Just…go!"

"Not a chance," he answered, firing again and blasting another of the aliens all the way to the depths of Hell. He pumped the Shotgun and almost immediately fired again.

By now, however, he knew it was over. The remaining fourteen Combat Forms had spread out in a circle around them and were keeping a safe distance from his Shotgun while slowly closing in.

Travis fired at one close to him and staggered it, but then he heard the screams-

And they charged.

He fired the Shotgun again, finishing the one that he'd hit a moment before, and turned while simultaneously pumping the firearm. Another shot, and another monster hit the pavement.

But it wasn't enough.

Travis could only watch as the first of them closed in on his mother, lying there on-

CRACK!

The shot came from nowhere, but was easily close and loud enough to pop Travis' eardrums as the bullet destroyed the chest cavities of a pair of Combat Forms. Before he could even wonder what had happened, a single form, clad in black armor, appeared out of thin air. Its arms and legs appeared to have blades attached to them at the joints, and in its hands were a pair of weapons he had only seen once before, when the Elites had invaded New Mombasa.

Energy Swords.

In a flash, the soldier was on the move, jumping and ducking under the tentacles that were coming from all directions. The Energy Swords cut off limbs in brilliant white streaks through the dawn-lit air, and as quickly as the Spartan's attack had started, it was over.

The black-armored soldier turned to Travis. "Let's go." The voice was male and stone-cold. "I've got her." Without another word, he picked up Travis' mother and sped into a nearby structure that was over a dozen stories high.

"But the Flood will follow us," Travis said as he entered.

The soldier stopped cold and turned around, staring him down. "Look, this gets done in one of two ways. The first is my way, in which you stay quiet and do as I tell you. The second, and the easier one for me, is that I leave you both here to die. Choose."

Travis was taken aback by the statement, but forced his mouth to utter the words, "option one."

"Good." And, with that, he started running again.

* * *

Ezekiel forced himself to stay calm as he led the kid behind him down the corridors of the building adjacent to his own. If he was careful and lucky, he could lead the Flood away from his own building and still get them all up to his room safely.

The operative word, however, was "lucky", and it was something he had never considered himself.

When he reached the door that faced his own building, Zeke glanced outside and saw clearly that the sun was almost completely visible in the sky already. He had to work quickly.

"Take this." He said, turning to Travis and handing him the thin, light cloak that had been stored in a compartment in his armor.

"What is it?"

"Standard UNSC camouflage," Zeke said, putting the mother down, who worked to stand on her own. "Wrap in it. Wait twenty seconds. Go through that door," he pointed to an open door visible twenty feet away, on the side of his own building. "Go to the fourteenth floor and find the door at the end of the hall on your left. Shut it behind you and enter the next room. The door is cast-iron. Shut it. Lock it. Don't speak. Questions?"

Neither of them spoke.

"Good." He said. "Twenty seconds. Not a moment early."

With that, he turned around and left the building from the back, entering into another street with all the fake stealth that weeks of practice and a lifetime of training could give him. He moved quietly around, only making small, subtle mistakes – leaving a door cracked, moving a rug, or appearing for a split second in the window.

It wasn't long before the Flood took the bait, and he could smell them closing in from almost every direction.

"How long?" he asked inside his helmet.

"If they moved at a decent pace," Demon said, "they should be entering your room right about…now."

Ezekiel nodded, took a deep breath, and prepared for the easy part of the plan, the part that actually came natural to him: true stealth, the kind that he had worked to perfect since he'd been enlisted to become a Spartan.

Demon activated the MJOLNIR armor's Active Camouflage, and Ezekiel was instantly invisible in the half-light of the dawn. In the sixteen seconds that the technology stayed active, he covered two-hundred yards of pavement and the tile flooring of numerous structures.

And he left not a trace to mark his passing.

The black-armored Spartan took cover inside the kitchen of a motel, waiting for his camouflage to recharge as the Flood searched for him in an entirely different part of the city.

When it had, he took off toward his own building, and managed to get inside before the system overloaded again. Zeke was sure he could make it to his room unseen, but he chose to be cautious anyway and waited once more for his suit to recharge before sprinting for his safe haven.

* * *

Travis was sitting with his back to the wall, still trying to recover his breath, when the enormous iron-clad door suddenly shuddered violently and the echoes of a single – albeit extremely hard – knock reverberated around the room.

Unsure of whether or not to answer the knock, Travis simply stood up in silence, inching toward the entrance-

"Open the damned door." It was the Spartan's voice, and he sounded even harsher than he had on their first meeting. Hurriedly, Travis reached for the lock in the darkness and managed to unlatch it. "Thank you." The soldier growled, annoyed as he entered and light from the adjacent room lit up the darkened chamber.

"No," Travis said, trying to calm the Spartan down. "Thank you. We'd both be dead if you hadn't shown up."

"Yeah," he said bluntly as he stalked over to a laptop in one corner of the room, "you would." He turned toward Travis' mother and cursed quietly. Travis turned to face her and drew a sharp breath.

Laura Wilks was ghostly pale and holding her abdomen with her left arm, bracing her body against the floor with her right. Her eyes were partially glazed over and she seemed pained by every breath.

"You're infected." The Spartan said, abruptly pulling out an M6G Pistol and pointing it at her.

"What the Hell!" Travis shouted, stepping in front of his mother and blocking the shot. "Are you out of your mind? That's my mother you crazy-"

"She's infected." The soldier repeated calmly, reaching down and pressing a button on the computer, which abruptly began emitting a bright, blue glow that lit up the room. "She breathed in too many spores on your guys' little sprint, and now she's infected." He cocked his head to the side slightly, as if puzzled. "By all rights, you should be too."

"I'm fine." Travis snapped. "So is she!"

"Your immune system must be working at a higher capacity. That's the only reason you'd be in as good of shape as you are." He was nodding slowly. "But what about her? Does she look fine to you?"

"You don't know that she's inf-"

"He's right." Travis was suddenly cut off as his mother interrupted, coughing painfully as she did so. "I…I'm infected. I'm a…threat to…both of you."

The Spartan scoffed. "Hardly a threat to me," he said. "But once the infection is finished, Gravemind will have access to your thoughts and to your senses as well. He'll know we're here, and then I'll have to move." He paused, flicking the safety off. "I hate moving."

"Please," Travis said, risking a glance back at his mother before turning toward the Spartan. "Don't do this. My dad…he's already…" He worked to keep his composure, but this was the first chance he'd really had to accept his father's death, even though he'd known what had happened from the moment the Flood showed up on his doorstep.

Travis took a deep breath, eyeing the Spartan carefully.

"I can't lose her too." He pleaded.

"You already have." The soldier answered coldly. "And there's nothing you can do to change it. The sooner you learn that, the better-off you'll be. Accept it and move on."

"I won't." He answered sternly.

The Spartan let out an exasperated sigh before stepping forward, forcing Travis out of the way. Then he spun the gun in his hand and leaned down, handing it to Travis' mother.

"What are-"

"You'll know when the infection is reaching its final stages. The pain will be nigh-unbearable. When that time comes, put one here." He pointed sharply to the left side of her chest, right next to the sternum. "Got it?"

She nodded.

With that, the Spartan turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him and leaving only the computer to provide any sort of illumination for the chamber. Travis glanced toward his mother, mouthed "I'm sorry" and hurried out after the black-armored soldier.

"Are you insane?" Travis shouted, slamming the door behind him as he stepped into the next room. "What's wrong with you? She's dying, and that's your answer? To wait until the pain is unbearable and then let her put a bullet-"

"Not my idea," he answered bitterly, "yours. My idea was to exterminate the Parasite now, before the pain gets worse. You're the selfish bastard here, not me." He turned and walked toward the next door, the one that led out into the hall.

Travis was still stunned by the last verbal blow, but forced himself to speak before the soldier departed. "Where are you going?"

"Hunting," the Spartan answered simply.

"Hunting?" Travis repeated, confused.

"Let me give it to you in terms you'll understand. I'm leaving this building to kill as many of those undead bastards as I can find in the course of six hours. Then I'll come back with food, we'll eat, and I'll go back out at sunset to repeat the process. When I return, I'll train for four hours, go to bed, wake up tomorrow morning and do the whole thing over again." He paused. "Except for the whole 'saving your life' thing; that one I have no intentions of repeating."

The door slammed shut as he stepped out. Travis ran up to it and jerked it open in time to catch the Spartan in the hallway. "What's your name?" He yelled.

"Ezekiel," he answered without turning around. "Ezekiel Veron."

* * *

"It's no wonder you never had any friends," Demon said mockingly as Ezekiel walked slowly down the stairs, toward the bottom of the structure he called home. "I mean, don't you think you were just a little hard on the kid?"

"Life sucks." Zeke answered plainly. "The sooner he realizes that, the better his chances. There are some things you can't change, especially nowadays. People die. Friends. Family. Lovers. Kids. Civilians. Military." He scowled. "Everybody dies."

"And on that happy note," the AI said with false enthusiasm, "I've got the latest infrareds uploaded to your HUD. We've got considerable activity in the northeast corner. Flood must have found another sanctuary."

Ezekiel rolled his eyes at the mention of the word 'sanctuary.' It was a term that had been coined roughly four days after the UNSC bailed on whoever remained on Earth. The word was self-explanatory: it was used to describe hiding places that were thought to be safe and secure, completely unknown to the Flood.

And it was a joke.

The Flood knew these places existed. Sure, they probably didn't know exactly how many, or where they were all located, but even Ezekiel knew of at least three within the city of Victoria, and he hadn't been looking. That meant that the Flood, if they wanted, could find them in a heartbeat. The idea of a 'sanctuary' was a lie, a useless, pathetic fairytale to keep the children calm and to give the adults some semblance of hope.

_What a waste of time. _He thought.

"Anything else I should know about?" The Spartan asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Well," Demon said, "I'm expecting thunderstorms this evening, continuing throughout the night."

Zeke nodded. He'd sleep well with the storms raging on outside. He'd never known why, but it had been made abundantly clear to him over time that storms helped his ever-worsening insomnia, the stronger the better.

Finally, he reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped outside into the sunlight, which was still being filtered by the toxic gasses that had consumed much of the Earth's atmosphere. The cloaking on his armor was activated and he sprinted three blocks to the south, disappearing into a four-story garage and walking up to two steel doors at the back of an old semi, parked on the second floor.

"You really wanna go to the trouble of hiding it again?" Demon asked skeptically as Ezekiel reached for the doors and undid the locks. The AI asked the exact same question every time Ezekiel even considered breaking out one of his toys.

"Hey, I just risked my ass to save their lives. Let me have my fun." He grinned, swinging the two doors wide and looking inside at the giant, alien vehicle that loomed in the darkness. An enormous wheel in the front greeted him first, lined with deadly spikes and powered by Covenant engineering. The seat at the rear, normally floating, was lying on the floor, unpowered.

"Still glad you took this thing?" Demon asked.

"Hell yeah," Zeke answered with a smile.

"That's good," the AI added, "because I bet Blaine is still pissed."

* * *

Travis watched in horror as his mother's condition worsened before his very eyes. Soon after insisting on a room with more light, her joints had all stiffened completely and now she was curled up against the wall beside the window, holding the Pistol with a death-grip and pointing it loosely at her chest.

"No," Travis managed, trying to think of something – anything – to do to save her. He was cursing the Spartan, Ezekiel, in his mind. The bastard had left her to die and him to watch as he went out just going about his day as if nothing were wrong, as if there wasn't a woman in unimaginable pain curled up on his floor, praying for some kind of peace.

She cried out again, falling forward as her entire body began to convulse, and Travis caught her just before her face would have slammed into the floor. A second later, she regained control and, without a word, clicked the safety off on the M6G. She turned the gun toward her-

Another terrible spasm gripped her body and the gun fell from her hand, landing loudly on the floor. She turned her gaze toward Travis, and he could see the pleading look in her eyes as she glanced back at the gun, then back at him.

"No," he said painfully, "I can't." He shook his head fiercely. "I won't!"

"Please!" she cried, pulling her arms to her stomach, wrapping herself in her arms and recoiling back against the wall, crying.

Travis stared at the gun in his hands, which were now trembling uncontrollably. He felt tears in his eyes for the third time since the Spartan had left the building, but forced himself to hold them in.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't." Finally, he broke, and the tears began running down his face as he pointed the gun at the floor, away from the infected woman in front of him. "I can't!"

* * *

The Brute Chopper sped down another street in the northern half of Victoria, the engine roaring as Ezekiel searched diligently for more of the disgusting creatures that he'd spent the last hour slaughtering.

Unfortunately, since the last batch of Combat Forms twenty minutes earlier, he'd seen nothing even resembling the Flood. There were no corpses, no Combat Forms patrolling the streets, no Ranged Forms mounted to the sides of skyscrapers, surveying the ground below.

There was nothing.

"Demon," the Spartan growled, more than a little uneasy with the situation as he slowed the alien vehicle to a stop, "what the Hell is going on? I haven't seen the city this empty since…" His voice trailed off as he let out a loud sigh, abandoning the statement.

The AI took a moment to answer. "I don't understand it. We should be seeing them everywhere around here. The sanctuary was just in that last block we went by, and it was entirely decimated." He paused. "They never clean up this fast."

Zeke's instincts were all but screaming inside his mind, setting off red flags in his subconscious that were impossible to ignore. Such strange behavior from the Flood, along with the fact that he had visitors for the first time in what seemed like eternity…

It couldn't be coincidence.

"Maybe I'll head back to the-"

Something moved at the end of the street, and Ezekiel scowled as the shadow of the repulsive creature disappeared behind an old motel.

"Going after it?"

Demon had only just gotten the words out before the Chopper abruptly shot forward, the twin jets behind the seat suddenly erupting as Ezekiel activated the boosting mechanism and leaned forward, minimizing his profile on the large craft.

The Chopper reached the end of the street and Zeke slammed his foot into the ground in an effort to both slow the bike and also to assist in turning the awkward vehicle. Up ahead, the Combat Form that he'd seen was running straight down the street, away from the Spartan and his vehicle-

"Zeke!" Demon was suddenly shouting into his mind. "I can't believe I missed it!" The AI let out a bitter scoff before continuing with an air of annoyance, "I must have a short somewhere-"

"Get to the point!"

"They moved in small numbers, and it was all very erratic, so I didn't catch onto the pattern immediately-"

"Demon, now!" The Chopper continued boosting forward.

"The Flood are converging on the facility!"

"Shit!" Zeke quickly turned the vehicle to the left as hard as he could and immediately activated the boosting mechanism again, grabbing the M6G on his thigh and taking aim at the fleeing Combat Form that was now to his right.

BANG!

The undead human fell forward, stumbling over itself and hitting the pavement face-down, where it stayed, unmoving.

"Good shot," Demon said quietly as the Chopper tore westward down the streets of Victoria.

Ezekiel didn't answer. He was too busy cursing himself for leaving the kid and his mother alone in his house, knowing full-well that she was only getting worse and knowing too that the boy would never have the heart to euthanize her, even if it was to spare her unthinkable pain and suffering.

_I knew he wouldn't do it,_ he thought bitterly. _What the Hell was I thinking? I left it up to a dying woman to put herself out of her misery and leave her son alone in this Hell._

Had Ezekiel really been out-of-touch with people for this long, that he would make such a gross misjudgment about a pair of simple, scared civilians?

The black-armored Spartan took one hand from the handles of the Chopper and smacked it against the side of his helmet in frustration.

"What's wrong?" the AI asked.

"Nothing," Zeke growled, pushing the alien craft to go as fast as it could manage. In the distance, he could barely make out the very top of his building-

"Oh my," Demon's voice echoed in his mind, wracked with awe and disgust as the Chopper sped by another structure. Ezekiel couldn't help but agree.

There were dozens of them – Combat Forms – crawling all over the exterior walls of his makeshift home, screaming and shrieking for all they were worth. Windows were broken on almost every floor below his, and Zeke could see flames in some of the lowest floors.

"Great," the Spartan growled. "Just fantastic." He sighed. "Alright, let's get this shit over with." And he revved the Chopper again.

* * *

Travis clenched the Pistol tighter in his hands, pointing it sharply at the cast-iron doorway. His mother's transformation had come swiftly – much more so than he had expected – and he had been forced to take cover in the Spartan's bedroom, sealed away from the outside world in pitch darkness.

He hadn't even been able to pull the trigger when the undead monster in the adjacent room turned its face toward him and let out an ear-piercing scream before lunging at him with its deadly tentacles.

Now he could hear them, hundreds of them, crawling in and around the building, screaming and closing in on him while the monster that used to be his mother was banging on the locked door. Ironically, the ancient, repulsive music that was still coming from the Spartan's laptop was the only thing giving Travis any sort of distraction.

For the first time since he'd arrived, the boy was thankful for the black-armored soldier's need for noise. He listened intently, focusing on the words in an effort to keep his mind away from the shrieking outside.

_…I'll face myself, to cross out what I've become. Erase myself. And let go of what I've done…_

The Combat Form on the other side of the door screamed again – louder this time – and slammed its tentacles into the barrier again, sending piercing vibrations reverberating around the chamber. Travis wrapped his finger around the trigger, waiting for the Flood to break in and attack him.

There was no doubt in his mind, however. The Flood weren't there for him. He was just a convenient target, easy prey. They wanted the Spartan, and his mother had been their ticket to finding him.

Travis shook his head furiously. It was his fault. He should have done what he knew had to be and ended her suffering, but he just couldn't. It wasn't her fault that she was infected. Who was he to make the call that she wasn't going to make it? He wasn't God. He was just a seventeen-year-old kid trying to survive in the depths of Hell.

"I'm sorry," he whispered under his breath. "I'm so sorry." He didn't know who he was apologizing to anymore, his mother or the Spartan that had saved their lives. Because of his stupidity, they would both end up a slave to the Flood, and he would be right behind them.

The Flood would claim a Spartan to use against mankind, and it was his fault.

CRASH!

Travis heard a wall collapse a few floors below before the screaming grew even louder, reverberating through the ventilation system and around the walls. He could hear what sounded like gunshots, and wondered for the first time if perhaps there were more people living inside the Spartan's building.

And, with that, if there were more people dying for his mistake.

Suddenly, the pounding on the door stopped, and Travis heard another scream, deathly close, followed by silence from the adjacent chamber. He was about to move for the door when a hissing noise began echoing around the room. A moment later, the slightest hint of blue and white light came from the lock-

CRASH!

The door fell inward as the Spartan pulled his leg back, glancing once behind him before stepping inside.

He walked up to Travis and jerked the M6G from his hands. "Let's go."

* * *

"You don't have much time." Demon said, the AI's voice echoing in Ezekiel's helmet as he gathered his belongings. He paid special attention to the cross hanging on the wall and the computer in the corner.

"Thanks for that," Zeke snapped back sarcastically, listening to the creatures surrounding his building and smelling the repulsive stench of their decaying flesh. "I'd have never figured it out without your help." He took Travis into the next room and grabbed the two training swords from the wall, attaching them magnetically to his thighs.

"I'm sorry," the boy started.

"Forget it." Ezekiel growled. He cursed silently and sprinted back to his room, reaching under the bed and pulling out a low-grade gas mask. When he got back, he handed it to Travis. "Come on!"

With that, he led the way out into the hall before turning a hard right and moving to the staircase.

"We'll never make it." Travis said shakily. "They'll be waiting for us on every floor below."

Zeke smirked. "I'm counting on it." He said, moving to the stairway that led to the higher levels of the building. "Follow me." With that, he led the way up the steps, all the way to the highest floor under the roof.

The Spartan turned and rushed down the hallway that gave way to the steps, moving quickly to the end and taking the last door on the right.

"I hope you've got some major firepower up here," Travis said. "There are so many of them, I don't know…" He trailed off, and the terror and awe in his voice was impossible to ignore.

"Trust me," Zeke said, moving through an adjacent room and into his last stop – a single, wide room that had once functioned as a conference room. It's only defining feature was the row of large windows that served as its wall to the outside.

"Are you insane?" Travis shouted. "We don't even have a wall! I mean, I've kinda accepted that we're probably gonna die, but I thought we'd at least-" He stopped as Ezekiel walked toward one wall. "Wait, what are you doing?"

Ezekiel grinned, reaching one hand out into the six feet of empty space between him and the wall, searching blindly for the-

His hand brushed up against something solid, and he released the breath he'd been unconsciously holding. The Spartan grabbed a handful of the fabric in front of him and pulled the UNSC camouflage-cloak away-

"What is that?" Travis' mouth was agape as he shouted the question.

Zeke looked down at the Chopper with a dangerous smirk. He'd hoped never to have to use it, but the time had definitely come. He stepped forward and put one leg over it, gripping the controls. "My second Chopper," he said, nodding to the vehicle. "Now get on!" Travis obliged instantly, without a word.

The Spartan revved the vehicle loudly as the undead horde flooded the building below them. He could hear them running, screaming up the stairs toward them.

But he didn't care. Not anymore.

"You still think this'll work?" Demon asked.

"I think-" Zeke started, but was cut off as a crack of lightning lit up in the distance, followed almost immediately by roaring thunder. "Great," he said, turning back to the vehicle.

Taking his time, Ezekiel pulled the swords from his thighs and attached them to magnetic panels that he'd installed on the Chopper, holding them in place near his feet. Then he double-checked the weaponry and pulled a small piece of equipment from beneath the Brute vehicle.

"What's that?"

"Don't worry about it." Zeke growled, handing it to the boy. "Push this button when I tell you to. Whatever you do, don't drop it, and hang on to the Chopper. Questions?"

Travis shook his head.

"Good." Zeke said, nodding. He focused on Demon. "You know the plan?"

"Of course." The AI said with a tinge of apprehension.

"Here goes nothing." And he took off on the Chopper, pointing it toward the windows and boosting at the last possible moment-

The Chopper burst through the windows, surging forward and into the open air as the Flood gathered in the room that they had just departed. Ezekiel glanced at the ground below, watching as the undead swarmed like insects in the open streets.

"Hit the button now!" he shouted, turning his head slightly to make sure that Travis heard him. Zeke waited anxiously until-

A dull hum could be heard echoing from the small piece of equipment behind him, and the Bubble Shield suddenly activated fully, encasing the Chopper and its occupants in a bright, yellow dome.

"What is this thing?" Travis asked.

Ezekiel ignored him, focusing first on the six-story parking garage in front of them, and then on Demon. "Hit it." He said.

"Consider it done," the AI answered.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Zeke glanced backward as the entire world suddenly seemed to be moving in slow motion. The bottom four floors of the building he had once called home had spontaneously detonated, engulfing every being inside, along with a hundred more that were packed too close-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The explosions reached the fifth floor, and then the sixth and seventh, repeating the process-

BOOM!

The rest of the structure – from the eighth floor all the way to the top – abruptly exploded as the C12 that Ezekiel had placed on every floor detonated at precisely the same time, sending a deadly combination of fire, smoke, and shrapnel in all directions as the overpressure surged all around-

"Well, I'll be damned." Demon said as Zeke watched the flames and metal shards hit and surround the Bubble Shield-

But that was all.

The overpressure, the explosive force of the blasts, the fire and shrapnel…none of it penetrated the Bubble Shield. Even as nearby skyscrapers shook dangerously and windows all over the block shattered, the Chopper was safe inside the shield, impervious to the entire event.

"Hang on!" Zeke shouted as he prepared to deal with the next problem: landing. They were just now above the edge of the garage, and the roof was still a good four stories below them. As a Spartan clad in titanium-plated armor, Ezekiel would be fine.

But Travis would be breaking a few bones in the fall, no matter how he went about it.

He allowed the front of the Chopper to dip down, sending them plummeting straight toward the top of the structure. When they were roughly ten meters from impact, Ezekiel jerked up on the front of the vehicle as hard as he could manage, effectively leveling it out before boosting-

CRASH!

The front wheel impacted first, and the force was great enough that even the anti-gravity thrusters under the seat weren't enough to keep it from bouncing off the concrete roof as the Chopper continued to skid along-

"Woah!" Travis shouted before Zeke felt him be thrown off the Covenant craft, landing on the concrete roof with a loud, painful-sounding thump. A full four seconds later, the Spartan managed to bring the vehicle to a full stop and turned around.

"Travis?"

The boy was laying face-down on the ground, unmoving, and Zeke could see blood already accumulating around his head.

"Shit! Travis!" He jumped off the Chopper and sprinted over to where the seventeen-year-old was laying. "Travis! Come on!"

Ezekiel gripped his shoulders and lifted him carefully up-

"Zeke," Demon said grimly, "Zeke, I'm sorry."

The Spartan set him down immediately, working to keep his breath and his mind level. The boy's face had been covered in blood, and his forehead had caved in on his horrendous impact with the roof.

"You couldn't have known." Demon said, trying to calm him as his heart-rate steadily rose. "It was your only way out. You never expected to have to move-"

"Damn it!" Zeke roared, throwing his fist into the concrete, denting it. "Damn it!" He repeated the motion, leaving another inch-deep dent.

"We have to go." Demon said. "You can't stay here. They'll find you-"

"Who gives a damn?" Zeke growled, standing up and walking to the edge of the garage. Across the street, he could see the remains of his building, and the Flood were still crowded on the road below…

_What the Hell?_ Ezekiel thought, temporarily distracted from his emotions.

A moment later, he asked, "what are they doing?"

The Flood were gathered in droves on the ground below, and they were all looking expressionlessly at the top of the garage, just staring up at him.

But they didn't budge.

"What are they doing?" He repeated.

Demon took a long time to answer. "I have no idea."

The Spartan heard something shift behind him, and he turned to see Travis' body writhing on the ground. He heard bones cracking and then-

"No," he managed, shaking his head. "God, please no."

The Combat Form stood up, looking at him with a dull, dead glare. Its tentacles moved about slowly at its side but, apart from that, it was still.

"One of Zulu Company," a voice echoed inside his mind, and Ezekiel knew immediately the voice he was hearing. "The pitch-dark Spartan, in the flesh."

"Gravemind," he growled, looking at the undead form before him.

"This means you have failed again, now that another is slain." Gravemind's cold tone resounded in his mind. Ezekiel could only stare, stunned, as the creature continued, "tell me, proud Ezekiel: what is it like, this much pain?"

Zeke took an unconscious step backwards, almost stepping clean off the ledge of the garage. He was petrified, listening to this repulsive creature voicing thoughts that sounded too much like his own.

He had failed again, for a third time. Victoria had been first, and then the family that had relied on him only a week before…now Travis and his mother. He was a Spartan, trained to fight and win, to protect Earth and its people.

So why couldn't he do it? Why was he suddenly incapable of doing anything right?

"Silence," Gravemind said calmly, "a strange reaction. Have you no clever rebut?" When Ezekiel said nothing, Gravemind's laugh erupted in his mind, as cold and dark as it had ever been. "This is the once-proud Spartan!" Gravemind continued. "You trained so hard, and for what?"

"Leave me alone," he growled, working to suppress the emotions that were clawing at him from his throat. "Get the Hell away from me!" He activated his two Energy Swords, crouching into a fighting stance.

"It will be as you wish, Spartan. I have no need for war." Gravemind laughed coldly once again. "Your failure's done far beyond what I sought to do before."

Ezekiel was surprised at the response, but quickly realized that the leading Flood form was telling the truth. The undead mass that had gathered on the ground below him was dispersing, and the only one standing still was the Combat Form that had, at one point, been Travis Wilks.

"We will meet again," Gravemind's voice echoed again. "In the meantime, though, try not to dwell." The creature's voice was all but dripping with false sympathy. "It will all be over soon, and you'll be free of this Hell."

Almost as if it were on cue, lightning split the skies in a dozen places when Gravemind had finished, and the tainted clouds suddenly opened up, releasing toxic rain onto the city for the second time in eight days.

"You should find shelter, Spartan, or this storm's end you won't see." Gravemind said calmly. Then, the creature added, with obvious arrogance, "and rest peacefully tonight; for you have naught to fear from me."

As the rain hissed against the Spartan's shields and burned the flesh of the monster before him, the Combat Form abruptly turned away before walking in silence to the edge of the structure. Zeke watched, puzzled, as it dove – literally dove – off the side, all in complete silence-

A loud impact and the sound of crunching bones echoed through the streets of Victoria, and Ezekiel rushed to the spot that the Combat Form had leapt from. Cautiously, he peeked over the ledge.

"My God," he managed, turning away. Even so, he couldn't get the image of Travis Wilks' body, broken and mangled against the road below.

"Zeke," Demon started, "You didn't-"

"Forget it," the Spartan answered, taking a knee and working to steady his breathing as the acidic rain continued to pound his shields and his armor. "Just forget it. I've had enough for one day."

* * *

**Author's Notes: So, I hope it was at least worth the one week's worth of waiting that I originally had. If you would, leave me just a little note to tell me what you thought. Next chapter, the main plot really starts up.**

**That being said, I have an announcement that, had I known I was going to have to make it, I'd have made two weeks ago:**

**I recently found a job (yay for me), and while I don't get nearly the hours I would like, I've been KINDA busy. It's Honda shutdown here this week, so my parents are home and stuff's getting done around the house and with the cattle. Toss that in with Gormanuyai getting back this weekend for a few days from his Navy-based journey into basic, time that I'll spend with my girlfriend, and my sad attempt at having a life (which I do try on occasion), and you've got quite the time-crunch.**

**With all that being said, I will try as best I can to keep things coming out once a week or so, but with my job started (as few hours as there are) and the rest of life getting in the way, things are hectic. It might well take two weeks or so to get something posted. I apologize for this, but...there's just nothing I can do. I'm not paid to write; I'm paid to work fast-food, sad as that makes me.**

**Thanks all, and my apologies once more. Enjoy the week ahead, and - of course - the 4th of July, for those of you sharing a country with me. ;)**

**- Raptor**

* * *


	5. Chapter 4: Contact

**Author's Notes: Wow. I know, eight weeks, right? "Surely he's dead." "Can't still be alive." "Zulu Company is over." "Didn't even finish the first section of the sequel!"**

**I'M NOT DEAD!!!**

**I just one really, really busy summer. Between work, deadlines for school, working at home and elsewhere to get stuff done...trying to see friends that I wasn't going to see for weeks or months at a time...I just ran out of time.**

**Now, to be fair, the first four or five weeks, I just couldn't get this chapter to come out right. After that...things were so busy, I didn't have to edit and do it right.**

**That being said, two things I want to make clear:  
1. This chapter is short, I know. But I am already typing the next one, and I hope to have it ready by the end of the weekend. My peace-offering (the first of many) to try and keep my throat from being cut by angry reviewers.  
2. I apologize for the hiatus. It was unplanned, but it was unavoidable. Now, let me assure you all: pending some terrible tragedy, I WILL NOT be holding you in suspense that long ever again. I didn't like it, I wanted to get this done basically every day, but there was always SOMETHING that had to be done. Now, I'm in college. There might be weeks where I'm too busy to get a chapter out because of papers or exams or whatever. But, largely, my classes seem simple enough, and I don't think there will be many problems.**

**All that out of the way, I hope you're all still with me, and I hope you enjoy Hell On Earth, as I do still have huge plans for it.**

**NOW, that being said, I HAD a reviews section, but after typing them all out, I loaded one other page and my computer froze without saving the freakin' things, so I have to RE-TYPE my review responses. I don't want to keep this chapter on hold any longer, so it's being posted NOW, and I'll do the reviews TONIGHT or TOMORROW. If this saddens you greatly (not that it should, as I'm really not all that pleasurable to hear from anyway, lol), e-mail and I'll respond personally. :) **

**Thanks all, and enjoy Chapter 4!**

* * *

**Chapter 4:**

– **Contact –**

**0900 Hours - July 11, 2553**

**Silhouette Island - In the Indian Ocean, East of the African Coast**

The last few days had passed by exceedingly fast for Samuel. He'd arrived back on Silhouette Island just shortly before Blaine and his crew had come home from a food run, and then he and the white-armored Spartan had had a long, bitter conversation involving Ezekiel's assumed location.

Since then, Sam's life had returned to business-as-usual, walking around inside the Prowler, striking up the occasional conversation with someone other than his fellow Spartan, doing his best to stay in peak physical shape amidst the relative calm, and – of course – bouncing plans around to strike back at the Flood that had consumed the Earth.

Although, Samuel took great pains to do the last one in relative secrecy, only throwing ideas around with Gael for the moment, in case Blaine should be less than accepting of the concept. Samuel didn't doubt the other Spartan would work with him; he simply didn't want to present the possibility without being able to give his teammate every detail-

SLAM!

Something metallic crashed into the wall of the Prowler somewhere behind Samuel, and he turned to see an unarmored Blaine Everson stalking toward him, with the accountant, Robert, chasing after him.

"You're just pissed because he got out of "babysitting", as you call it, and you didn't!" The smaller man shouted.

"I'm pissed off because the least he could have done is dropped you off on the way to Mahé!" Blaine snapped back, "preferably in the middle of the God-damned ocean!"

"Oh, that's mature." Robert answered sarcastically, running until he was right behind the Spartan. "Just start throwing insults."

Blaine suddenly spun around, staring him down. "Next step is throwing you." He growled. "Now get the Hell away from me."

"You don't make the-"

"Get lost!" Blaine roared, and the accountant muttered something under his breath before turning away and stalking to the other end of the Prowler.

"Looks like you're having a great morning," Samuel said, nodding to the smaller Spartan. Blaine's response was nothing but a dangerously low snarl.

"I hate that little bastard." He said finally, shaking his head. "If he gets on my nerves one more time, I'm gonna break him in half."

Samuel sighed, thoroughly considering donning his armor and taking a walk out on the island. At least that might give him some peace and quiet from the constant feuding.

"Hey! Come look at this!"

Blaine let out an exasperated breath. "Oh, for the love of-"

"Sam! Get over here! Gael just picked something up!" Scott sounded ecstatic.

Samuel spun around in an instant, standing straight up. "Say what?"

"She got contact with a spaceship!" Robert was chiming in too. The man's voice made it abundantly obvious what he was thinking: a ship could be their ticket off this Flood-infested rock. "She says it's UNSC!"

"What's the tag?" Blaine asked.

"Say what?" The accountant said, puzzled.

"What's the name?" The white-armored Spartan asked, annoyed.

"Umm…" Robert started, but was cut off as Scott finished for him.

"It's the _Atonement of Reach_."

Samuel's eyes went wide with disbelief, sure that he was hearing things. "Are you sure?" He asked, excited as he ran over to look at the terminal at the end of the Prowler.

"I'm positive, Sam." Gael's voice answered through the speakers of the ship. "If the holotank on this damned terminal were working, I'd look you right in the eye and tell you exactly what I'm telling you now: it's the _Atonement_. And they're in the Sol System."

* * *

Blaine listened in a sort of skeptical silence as the news sunk in, not only with him, but with every other person in the Prowler. It was something that none of them – even Samuel – had ever considered the idea of: extraction.

"So we've finally got some company." Samuel said, nodding.

"You might get more than that," Gael answered. "According to the data I was sent, there's a trio of Spartans there too."

Samuel clapped his hands together. "Alright," he said. "Now we're getting somewhere." He turned around, facing the exit to the Prowler in complete silence, and Blaine could tell that his mind was in overdrive.

"And you're sure that they're on-board?" The white-armored Spartan asked the AI. He was still more than slightly doubtful of the entire situation. Gravemind was capable of a lot of things, and the concept of creating a false UNSC tag to lure the Spartans out of hiding seemed well within its means.

"As far as I can tell, Landon, Jason, and Stephanie are on the roster. The message didn't say anything about Nova Company though." She paused. "It's so heavily encrypted, and not with anything we've used often-"

"To keep Gravemind guessing," Sam said as he turned around. "Okay."

"Okay?" the AI asked.

"Yeah, okay. Now we just need to get them to our position and we-"

"Woah!" Robert shouted, waving his arms as he stepped between Blaine and Samuel. "You can't be serious. The Flood have access to every major communication line around. If you send them a message with our coordinates, we're all dead."

Blaine ignored him, deciding to trust Samuel's judgment, as he had done so many times before. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Sam nodded slowly, and Blaine could tell that the leading Spartan was still trying to fit the pieces together in his mind. Suddenly, he asked, "what kind of havoc you think we could wreak with six Spartans?"

The biomechanical Spartan cocked his head. "Quite a bit," he answered. "You think we can get Zeke in on it?" His voice lowered slightly at the mention of the black-armored Spartan.

Samuel shrugged. "As long as he's alive, he'll help us out."

"Wait," Robert interrupted again. "You're talking about the black-armored one? He's been off on his own for weeks, probably in the middle of a Flood-controlled city. And you think he's alive?" The former-accountant let out a bitter, annoying scoff. "The guy had a death-wish. He's toast." He paused. "We're toast."

"Do you even listen when you talk?" Blaine asked. "Think about it, dumbass. Zeke came from here. If the Flood managed to get him, they'd know where we are, and they'd have already come and killed the rest of us. Since we're all still breathing, I'd say it's a safe bet that he is too."

"That doesn't change the fact that, if you send our coordinates, the Flood will be all over us. You can't ignore tha-"

"Whatever you wanna do," Joseph Wallace interjected, "I'm right behind ya."

"Same here," Jackie added. Her husband nodded firmly. The only one who stayed silent was Joel Miedema.

But Blaine knew perfectly well: he didn't need to say anything. Miedema would have followed them to the depths of Hell, if only it didn't seem like they were already there.

"Great," Sam answered. "Then let's get started. We've got a plan to put together, and not much time to do it."

* * *

"Sir! Zulu Company to see you, sir," Captain Scott Ward said quickly, anxiety permeating his every word as he addressed the recently-promoted Admiral Rick Agnes.

"Thank you, Scott," Agnes answered calmly as he turned to face the man and the three armored super-soldiers standing directly behind him. The Captain nodded and turned away, returning to his post at one end of the bridge.

"Sir," the leading Spartan said, snapping to attention as the two males behind her mimicked the sharp, crisp motion.

"At ease," Agnes said with a nod, looking directly at Stephanie. Then, he moved straight into the business that had brought the three Spartans to the bridge. "I assume you're all ready." He said.

"Sir," Landon said nervously from Stephanie's right. "Permission to speak freely."

"Of course."

"Are you sure about this, sir?" The same anxiety that had been so evident in the Captain's voice was creeping into Landon's as well. "You'll take a lot of heat for this, sir."

"Absolutely," Agnes answered without a second's hesitation. "There is not a question in my mind that this is what has to be done." He paused. "Your teammates stood their ground as the entire world fled around them. I will not leave them there to burn, no matter what Command says. If that means that a little heat comes my way, then so be it."

Despite his strong words, Agnes was put more than a little on edge by Landon's nervousness. Normally a risk-taker by nature, the blue-armored Spartan was a pilot, driver, and rocket-wielding terror on the battlefield.

And yet, here he was, questioning the orders that the Admiral was ready to hand out, even if they had the capacity to help his own teammates.

"You'll almost certainly lose your post, sir." Stephanie said quietly, hints of regret creeping into her tone. "Command won't-"

Agnes stopped her with a wave of his hand. "Command can throw whatever threats at me that they want. I've watched enough soldiers – and certainly enough Spartans – get left behind when someone was forced to make a tough call. It happened on Reach; it happened when the Flood first landed at New Mombasa." The Admiral closed his eyes, forcing the memories into the back of his mind. "I have a chance to prevent it from happening here, and I'll be damned if I stand and watch, orders or no orders."

All three Spartans nodded, accepting the orders and the explanation behind them. The Admiral was about to dismiss them when the middle Spartan, Stephanie, spoke up, her voice barely a whisper.

"Thank you, sir." She said.

* * *

"Gael, have you got that message ready yet?" Samuel's voice was laced with impatience as the brown-armored Spartan paced back and forth through the Prowler, replaying the message again and again in his mind.

"Two more minutes," the AI answered. "The encryption sequence is almost finished. After that, I run probability analyses to figure out what the odds of Gravemind cracking it are."

"One-hundred percent," Blaine said coldly, standing in one corner of the room. "The damn thing's borderline-omniscient, and you expect to stump it with a riddle?"

Samuel shook his head. "Not stump it," he said, "just puzzle it for a few moments, instill even a semblance of doubt. If the Gravemind isn't completely sure of the answer, it'll keep forces on standby in case it's wrong." He paused. "That's all we're after."

"You think you can accomplish that?" Miedema asked from the lone chair that sat in front of the computer terminal. He was the only non-Spartan left in the Prowler – all the others had suited up and gone outside to do a sweep of the island for hostiles.

"I know we can." Sam answered. His tone was confident, as if he were completely sure of the outcome already.

"Read it to me again." Blaine said, closing his eyes as the AI began to recite the message that they were sending to the _Atonement of Reach_.

"Regarding the information sent: Beta Team is to make contact with Victoria before her set lights-out-time tomorrow. Bring your own pillow, but forget the blankets."

"I still think that's dumber than Hell." Blaine scowled. "I mean, really? We're Spartans, not first-graders. Bring your own pillow? What the Hell is-"

"It's not meant to be anything spectacular." Sam answered defensively.

"That's not the point." Blaine argued. "For starters, Victoria's dead, and the only person who knows that better than Gravemind is Zeke. What the Hell makes you think that Gravemind will question whether or not Victoria is a place when he caused her death aboard the Assault Carrier?"

"Call it a hunch." Samuel said calmly. "And, if he's not predisposed to the idea, then we'll just have to sell it."

"I take it the other three Spartans compose Beta Team?" Miedema asked suddenly.

Samuel nodded. "Ezekiel, Blaine, and I were referred to as Alpha Team when we returned to Earth from the Assault Carrier."

"It still sounds ridiculous." Blaine growled. "Blankets? What the Hell are we? Five?"

"It's just something that Gael came up with. It's a rush job." Samuel said. "And if you think you can do better, then by all means, let me have it."

"Sure," he answered, coughing to clear his throat. "Hey! We'll meet at you at the city of Victoria on Mahé tomorrow night at dusk. Get your sorry asses down here and bring us some God-damned weaponry." He paused. "How's that?"

"Fine, if you want Gravemind to send every Flood form in Asia at us."

Blaine shrugged. "Works for me-"

Samuel put his hands up, stopping him. "Yeah, I know it does. But it doesn't work for me. We need to get them and get out of there as quietly as possible."

"Boring," Blaine muttered.

"I know. You just gotta trust me on this." Samuel nodded confidently. "It'll work."

* * *

"Admiral, we're receiving a transmission from Earth!" One of the men hard at work in front of a terminal on the bridge shouted as he suddenly stood up from his post. "It's encrypted with high-tier UNSC protocols."

"This is it." Jason said coolly. "You guys ready?"

Landon's response was typical. "Damn right."

But Stephanie couldn't bring herself to be so readily-accepting of the news. The odds that any of the Spartans were still alive were slim, and it would be all too easy for Gravemind to send them a heavily-encrypted message to bait them into a trap. Still, she answered, "yeah, let's do it."

"Pull it up." Agnes said, turning to face the main monitor. Thousands of numbers, symbols, and letters suddenly began scrolling across the giant holographic panel at maddening speeds as the ship's on-board AI, Delilah, worked to break that code that was presumably either Gael or Demon's handiwork.

The symbols continued to scroll for what seemed like eternity, until the screen froze altogether and Delilah's voice echoed from the surrounding speakers. "I've got it," she said, "and it looks like Gael's work. Proceed?"

Slowly, Agnes nodded, and a new message appeared on the monitor.

"Well, that's a new one on me." Jason said. Stephanie could only stare.

The monitor read: "Regarding the information sent: Beta Team is to make contact with Victoria before her set lights-out-time tomorrow. Bring your own pillow, but forget the blankets."

"You expect me to believe that Sam sent us that?" Landon asked aloud.

"Sure as Hell wasn't Zeke or Blaine." Jason muttered.

Agnes was shaking his head. "Desperate times," he said.

Stephanie couldn't stand it any longer. The message was strange, sure, but something inside her told her that this was Samuel's doing and no one else's. Neither Blaine nor Ezekiel would have approved such a message, and, judging by the reports she'd read, the Gravemind would have been able to think up something much more poetic to send them.

No, this was Samuel, out of options and needing whatever help he could get.

"It's them." She said aloud, allowing her voice to exit her helmet. "That's Sam."

Agnes eyed her curiously. "You're sure?"

"I'd bet my life on it."

"If Stephanie's in, then I'm right there with her." Jason said.

"Makes three of us." Landon finished.

Agnes nodded, turning back to the screen. "Any idea what it means, Delilah?"

The AI took a moment to answer. "Well," she said, "my reports indicate that Victoria Small was listed MIA after the Spartans' mission on the Flood-controlled Assault Carrier last March."

"That's right," Stephanie said sadly.

"This, together with the phrase "make contact with" suggests to me that Victoria is not a person, but a location for the Spartans to land. There are numerous sites on Earth that are possible, but the three Zulu Company Spartans that composed Alpha Team were last registered at a military hospital on Madagascar. This makes the most probable location the capital city of the island of Mahé, Victoria."

"Makes sense," Jason said. "If we're on an island, Gravemind has to work to get all the Flood forms to us."

"Fair enough," Landon said, "but what the Hell is "her set lights-out-time" supposed to be?"

"Mahé is part of the Seychelles Islands." Delilah said. "Across the islands, the accepted bedtime, or "lights-out", as it is referred to in the UNSC, is sundown."

"Alright," Stephanie said. "That just leaves the last part."

"Bring your own pillow obviously refers to a hard landing, which means we can't take a Pelican or a Phantom down." Landon sighed loudly. "We have to use the HEV's."

"Helljumping," Jason growled. "Great."

"Wow," Delilah's voice echoed around the room. "Why am I even here?"

Agnes ignored her. "Forget the blankets," he said. "You use a blanket to keep warm. If you don't need it-"

"Sam's subtle way of telling us it's gonna be hot." Jason said, cracking his knuckles.

"So we meet them in Victoria, on the island of Mahé, tomorrow at dusk. We come in by orbital drop-"

"And we come in ready to rock!" Landon shouted, clenching his fists.

The Admiral nodded as a ghost of a smile appeared on the edges of his face. "That's it then. You three get ready. Put requests in for whatever you want and whatever you think your team will want. I've got a dozen HEV's that I can drop, so don't go soft on me. You want it? You ask for it, you got it."

"Sir, yes sir!"

* * *

Ezekiel finally felt his mind starting to blur. It had been more than three days since he'd had a real night's sleep. And now, after thirteen straight hours of contemplating the past and the future, the idea of some kind of meaning in his life, of redeeming the failures that now dominated his conscious thought, he had had all he could take. His mind finally slowed as his eyes closed in preparation for the rest that he so badly needed-

"Ezekiel!" The AI's voice sent shockwaves down his spine and sent him bolting from his flat position on the ground, standing up in a fraction of a second.

"What?" He shouted, looking around through the dense forest and neither seeing nor smelling anything that even resembled Flood. "What the Hell are you shouting for?"

"You'll never believe this."

"You better pray that I do," Zeke growled, "because if you pulled me from my impending sleep for nothing, I swear to-"

"I picked up a transmission from space."

"From space?" Ezekiel was puzzled. No human-controlled ships had been allowed in the area in God-only-knew how long, and the Flood didn't need to communicate over something as primitive as a satellite, not when they had their ludicrously-efficient group-consciousness.

"Zeke," Demon's voice was dripping with hesitation as he prepared to speak again. "It came from the _Atonement_. And, according to the roster, Landon, Jason, and Stephanie are all on-board."

"What?" Now the Spartan was dumbfounded. Of all the ships to enter Flood-controlled space, what were the odds that it would be the one with the rest of Zulu Company aboard-

His mind stopped as he realized it. The odds were perfect. That was **why** it was the _Atonement_, and nothing else.

The other Spartans were coming.

"There's more." Demon said. "I think Samuel sent them something back."

"Show me."

In an instant, the inside of the Spartan's HUD lit up with a message that Samuel had apparently sent to the crew of the _Atonement_, along with the three Spartans that were said to be on the roster. The message talked about meeting Victoria, and it caused Ezekiel's breath to catch in his chest as he read it, even though he knew too well the double-meaning of the sentence.

"So they're coming to me." He said, reading the message again as he took it all in, "tomorrow at dusk."

"You think that's what Sam's getting at?" The AI asked.

Zeke nodded. "Positive," he said. "Agnes probably wants to get us out of here, but I guarantee you that Samuel has other plans. He won't give up, and he won't retreat, not after what the Flood have done here."

"But why this island? The Flood number in the tens-of-thousands here, even with you and your daily routine."

"You're missing the point." Zeke answered, smirking. "He wants to pick them up here, on Mahé, because he wants to get me involved too, and that's his best chance to do it."

"And are you going to-"

"Let's go." The Spartan said suddenly, turning toward the city. "If we're going to have guests, then I have a table to set."

"What about sleeping-"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."


	6. Chapter 5: Warriors' Arrival

**Author's Notes: Took me long enough, I know. And, I also know that I never got review responses up last week. Plain and simple: I got to go home and stuff fell behind. I'd worry about it more right this second, but I thought you'd all prefer me to do this first. ;) But, so I don't get into a habit, I will say this:**

**REVIEWS!**

**killerman83ca: lol, glad you liked that. Thanks very much for the kind words and the continuous support. Best of luck on your own stories, I hope they're getting the attention they deserve. :)**

**Mhop12: lol, no...no LIVE for me as of late. Been too busy with...well, everything else. Thanks for reviewing!**

**1 way ticket: Hey you! :) lol, yeah, the last one was all info, no action. But I fix that this time around...not that you'll enjoy that, I'm sure. lol. Look forward to seeing you this weekend! Thanks Cutie :)**

**Bashbro: hehehe, you make a valid point. This story is my life insurance. ;) No one can kill me until I'm done, lol. Thanks a lot, and enjoy!**

**The Elven-Spear: lol, glad you liked the line. ;) And I've heard there's a song by that title, but I've never heard it myself. hehe, I just hope you like this chapter as much as the ending of the lead-up. ;)**

**FireWolfFred: Well, didn't get it out like I wanted (who's honestly surprised anymore?), but it's ready, and it's rearing to go. And...it's much longer than the last one, lol. I hope you enjoy it, and that it was worth all the waiting! Thanks a lot!**

**DoctorG27: haha, glad to be back (sort of). Thanks, and I hope you like this one. It's much, much better than the former, if I do say so myself. :)**

**Ildina Dusklea: lol, thank you. :)**

**armoured-blade: Curse you and your mockery!!! "My body-clock", "rented a suit", "maybe they'll die before you", "wait another three years for the end", and my personal favorite: "you owe me 150 bucks for the suit." Now, moving to the ACTUAL substance...yes I have plot twists planned for the tiny people in the story (characters, I mean...bit parts, lol). To answer your question: their efficiency and near-self-sufficient behavior is on purpose. I have plans for them...of sorts. Moving on. The riddle...the riddle was good, for what it had to entail. It was hard to make something that wasn't completely ludicrous, but fit the purposes. Thankfully, I had much help (MUCH help), and it worked out okay. As for Zeke...I couldn't do a nightmare 'cause he hasn't slept (there'll be time for that later), and the regret idea didn't fit the moment. But I promise, I'll make up for it later. I hope you enjoyed the next one (that you've already read and proofed for me...), and I hope you can finally sleep now that a new one has come out...jerk. ;) Thanks man.**

**Spartan Ophir 06: Wow, been a long time since you've had a spare moment, much less a spare one you could justify wasting on my book. ;) lol. And I can't argue with your logic: Gravemind's not stupid. That code is a time-buyer, and not much more. As for Zeke's chapter...well, parts of it might be overstated, but I kind of wanted that. I wanted an extreme example, because subtle hints aren't what he's feeling at the moment either. The things he's saying and feeling are not overdramatized (he has no one to "show" for, so why bother?). He just doesn't know how to handle the situation that he's in. But I can see where you would come from with that idea. It's drastically different than what anyone is used to. Oh, and as for the mines...well, all's fair in love and war. ;) Thanks a lot for reviewing! Take care out there!**

**The Not-So Addict: I am! Barely...lol. Glad you're still reading along. I missed the comments and insight. :) And yes, the team is coming back. Finally, I know. lol. As for Vic...well, Zeke's changed some, so her "counter" to him might not fit so well anymore anyway. Thanks very much for reviewing, and enjoy!**

**Samus 117: lol, I could see some people arguing with your statement that "the longer it takes, the better it is." But, I will try to keep my times down to a minimum without sacrificing quality. I'm glad you liked the last one, and I hope you're ready for the action to pick back up, 'cause as of Chapter 5, it's on! Thanks a lot! Enjoy!**

**Zamammee's Twin: First of all, no need to apologize or clarify. Secondly, your comment prompts me to ask: did you ever read "The Last Stand"? If not, I could see how these characters would be extremely strange to you, especially if you have any real military knowledge, or even just Halo-based knowledge. In the first book, I go through and develop these Spartans and their personalities, and if you read through, you'll understand why they come out to be the way that they do (though, if you don't necessarily LIKE these personalities, I can't in good conscience recommend it to you, as it's a book full of this kind of dialogue and action sequences). In essence: they are not very "military" in the way that most people would think of the word. They are strategic, and they are some of the best at what they do, but they are not standard soldiers, and most certainly are not standard Spartans. I hope this cleared everything up, and I hope that perhaps you could enjoy some of it, despite the differences from typical stories. Thank you!**

**Alright! That's that! Now, without anymore time being wasted...Chapter 5!**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 5:**

– **Warriors' Arrival –**

**2000 Hours - July 12, 2553**

**Silhouette Island - In the Indian Ocean, East of the African Coast**

"Let's do this." Blaine's voice was rock-solid as he followed Samuel out of the Prowler and into the fading light of the evening. Miedema followed close behind, suited up in what had become his standard ODST combat armor.

"Are you sure you don't want us along?" Joseph and Scott were right behind them, suited up as well and rearing to go.

Much to their dismay, both Blaine and Samuel knew too well that they couldn't be brought along. It was an unfortunate truth: if either of them was to come into the warzone that the Spartans were about to enter into, each one's lifespan would be measured in seconds.

"Not a chance," Samuel answered. "We'll handle this one."

"You're bringing Joel." Joseph argued. "Both of us are-"

"Only human." Samuel finished. "And Joel's just coming to fly the Phantom. We only need one man for that."

"And you're leaving Gael?" Scott questioned.

Samuel shook his head. "It's dangerous to bring her, but we need all the help we can get. In the event that something does go wrong, we can't be handing another AI over to Gravemind, so I've made arrangements to prevent her capture." He paused. "The Flood have enough toys to work with."

"Fine, I understand Gael, but we can help you too-" Scott was still trying to object when his wife came up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Forget it," she said calmly. "They'll be fine." She paused. "Both of you, come back inside."

Scott looked like he was about to argue, but apparently thought better of it, sighing quietly and turning back toward the Prowler. Joseph Wallace just shook his head.

"You guys stay alive, ya hear me? It's a long flight out there for a funeral."

"Thanks Joseph," Samuel said. "You take care here. We'll be back by dawn."

Blaine simply nodded to the former game-warden. He didn't need a drawn-out speech or even ten words. For all their faults, Joseph and Scott had been his teammates for the past few weeks, and he knew they wished him and Samuel the best, not for their own good, but for the Spartans'.

The trio at the front of the Prowler waved goodbye as the two Spartans turned and led the way to the caverns that housed their all-but-invisible Phantom, with Miedema following in complete silence.

About thirty yards into the journey, Samuel spoke up. "You nervous?" His tone was still extremely cool and confident.

"Hell," Blaine answered boldly, "what for? It's just more of the same. We go in, wipe the floor with their undead asses, and go home."

That wasn't the truth, however.

The truth was that Blaine Everson was more than the slightest bit anxious at the thought of their mission, just as he suspected Samuel was as well. For weeks, he and the others living in the Prowler had done everything in their power to evade the Flood and only hit Mahé when it was completely unavoidable.

Now, that goal was long gone. Their message back to the _Atonement_ would have Gravemind's forces ready and standing by for the inevitable attack. Add to that the fact that the Flood would know of the Spartans' impending arrival first due to their control of Earth's orbiting stations-

"Efficiency is key here," Samuel said, interrupting the white-armored Spartan's thoughts. Blaine realized immediately that the leading soldier was talking to more than just him. "Both of you need to be ready. Joel: if we're not back on schedule, or if you see so much as a glimpse of the Flood, you're to-"

"Get the Hell away from Mahé and come back in forty-eight," Miedema finished calmly. "I've had quite a while to memorize that."

Samuel nodded. "Blaine: when we get there, I'll drive. You've got shotgun."

Blaine grinned slightly as he caught a glimpse of the cavern they were headed toward. "Fair enough," he said. "You sure you remember how?"

Sam just shook his head. "You better hope so."

* * *

"This is it!" Landon was shouting to the other Spartans as the trio loaded themselves and their equipment into the Long-Range Orbital Insertion Pods before them. "You guys ready for this?"

In all, the Spartans were given twelve pods to use: three for themselves, four more for equipment, and an additional five for two-dozen inactive Fury Tactical Nukes and three HAVOK-class Nuclear Warheads.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Jason said, carefully splitting the Tactical Nukes into two groups of twelve and placing them in separate pods. The HAVOK-class Warheads were already loaded, and only Stephanie had the arming keys, since her biomechanical upper-body had the best chances to prevent possible Flood infection. "Never been a big fan of HEV's."

"Ah, you're such a big girl." Landon mocked. "How'd you ever end up as my assistant?"

"Your assistant?" Jason repeated, rolling his eyes. "That's a good one. You think that up all by yourself?"

"Hey," Stephanie interrupted, putting the last of her gear into one of the pods, "you're both technically my assistants now, so how 'bout you get your asses in gear? We got just a few more minutes before we drop."

"Yes ma'am!" Landon laughed, putting his standard UNSC M41 Rocket Launcher into the back of his own HEV. "Or should I say sir?"

"Shut up, Landon." She replied, sighing loudly. Jason could almost see her eyes rolling.

"Just ignore him," he told her. "He's had a little too much downtime."

"I'd say that we all have." She answered. "Come on. Hurry up and do your finishing touches; we're to be done prepping in sixty seconds."

* * *

"There's Mahé," Miedema said loudly, staring out at the island ahead of them. The sun had just started to fall below the horizon, and the capital city ahead was drenched in a sickly green and yellow glow from the tainted atmosphere. "We land in two minutes."

"Thanks Joel," Samuel said from somewhere behind him, not bothering to step up and have a look for himself. Not that Joel could blame him: the Spartans were probably still prepping for a battle that – by all rights – they'd never win.

They were good, Miedema knew that. But they only had so much firepower. In his numerous flights to and from the island, the ex-ONI operative had seen immense waves of Flood Combat Forms charging across the landscape. There had to be thousands of them, and there would certainly be more of them now, with the Spartans' inevitable landing.

It was suicide.

"One minute to drop-off." He said.

That was the other thing about this mission that Miedema had major qualms with: they were changing his routine. Rightly so, but the fact that it was changing was enough to unnerve the former-soldier.

Instead of simply landing the Phantom and waiting for the Spartans to return, Miedema was to stay at least two-hundred feet above the ground, hiding the Covenant craft above the trees, and allow the Spartans to jump, while lowering the Warthog with the gravity-lift.

The reason, as he understood it, was that the Flood would be all over the island, so landing was no longer an option. And they couldn't be allowed to see the Phantom, or Gravemind would surely realize their ploys and track them down, either by altering the settings on the satellites or by waiting for their next food-run.

"Twenty seconds," Miedema shouted, putting on his commandeered ODST helmet. "You guys ready?"

"Let's go." Blaine said, pounding his fist lightly on the door to the dropship.

"Do it, Joel." Sam added.

"Godspeed, guys," Joel answered, and he opened the door.

* * *

"Zeke."

"What?"

"Satellites just picked up a dozen Long-Range Orbital Insertion Pods," the AI said with an air of apprehension. "They'll be impacting momentarily."

The black-armored Spartan nodded, walking over to the window of the eleven-story hotel that was currently serving as his home-away-from-home. At first, he'd been reluctant to choose another place to call his own, but he knew that the Flood would be far too preoccupied with the concept of more Spartans to look for him in this particular twenty-four-hour period.

Less than a minute passed by before the first of the HEV's came into view in the sky, appearing in the soldier's sight only once it passed by the tainted clouds that served to hide the atmosphere above.

Soon after, eleven more of the crafts came into view, falling from the heavens like meteors as they crash-landed in the city of Victoria.

Ezekiel could only watch and guess which ones housed his allies. Seven of the crafts had landed in what he assumed was the correct location: an open square a few blocks from the southern edge of the city. The other five were scattered: two of them falling farther east, two more falling just a couple of blocks north of the original seven, and the final one crashing into the forest somewhere south of the capital city.

"Where do you think they are?" Demon asked hesitantly.

Zeke stared out the window for several seconds before an answer came to him. "I think they're spread out." He said. "But Sam will play the odds: he'll hit the group of seven at the south side."

"And if they're not there?"

Ezekiel smiled. "Then he'll burn a path to them." He paused, nodding. "That's Samuel."

"There are a lot of Flood out there," Demon said. "You think he'll be able to reach them?"

"You're forgetting Samuel's determination, Demon." Zeke said calmly. "Add to that the fact that he'll have Blaine with him, and I'd say their chances are better than average."

"You don't understand." The AI protested. "I'm tracking infrared reports of movement all over the island, along with more on the Asian and African coastlines. They're coming, and they're coming hard."

The Spartan smirked, laughing quietly to himself. "Then we'll just have to remind them of who their dealing with."

* * *

Stephanie felt the HEV collide with the ground, sending vibrations up and down her entire body as she gripped the sides of the craft for the support. Seconds later, when the pain in her head and spine had subsided, the female Spartan kicked the door open, letting the titanium panel slide down the street before her as she leapt out of the pod, Fuel Rod Cannon armed and on her shoulder.

"Jason! Landon! Status!" she shouted into her helmet, looking around at the six other pods that had touched down around her.

"Ah, shit!"

It was Landon.

"We drifted off course!"

This time it was Jason.

"Where are you?" She asked, trying and failing to find her teammates' signatures on her HUD. "I can't see you guys."

"We're-" Something clanged as metal hit metal. "Ow! Damn it! We're on the east side! Son of a-"

"We'll meet you on the south side." Jason was talking now, and Stephanie could tell that he was trying to stick to the plan as best he could. "Where did you land?"

"Where I was supposed to," Stephanie said, shaking her head.

"Nothing to be done about it now," Jason continued. "Just stay there and-" He stopped.

"And what?" Stephanie asked. "Hey! And what? Jason!"

"Steph, we got company! We'll meet you on the south side!" A brief pause before, "damn it, Landon, come on!"

With that, the signal was cut.

Stephanie shook her head, trying to get her bearings. Part of her wanted to meet them half-way, but she knew better. If none of them were around when Samuel arrived, he'd leave to check other parts of the city, and they might never meet up in the same place before the Flood found them all.

"Sam!" she shouted into the intercom. "Samuel! It's Stephanie! Can you hear me?" Deep down, the female Spartan knew that it was a pointless attempt. Unless Samuel was close – really close – he'd never be able to pick her up on any of the communications channels. And since she and others had come a few minutes early to make sure that they met Samuel on time, there was no way he was in range already.

_Well, _she thought, _what now? _She couldn't leave, but standing out in the open with the Flood lurking nearby wouldn't do either, not if she wanted to-

An ear-piercing shriek tore her from her thoughts as the first of the waves of undead humans leapt into view from around one corner of the block. And before they could even make any progress, more screams from her left told the red-armored Spartan that she wasn't just outnumbered – she was surrounded.

* * *

"They've already landed!" Samuel growled into his helmet as the LRV bounced up and down through the dense forest, speeding toward the city ahead. "Why did they come early?"

Blaine had just watched as a dozen pods crash-landed in the city, the majority of them touching down toward the south side, where the two Spartans would be entering from.

"Punch it, Sam!" Blaine yelled, fully aware of just how little time they had. If the Flood located the pods first – which they inevitably would – they'd bombard those who had landed with more corpses than they could possibly fend off. The only way any of them had a chance was if he and Samuel could get there, load them up, and get the Hell out.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Sam asked bitterly. "Great," he said, glancing to the left, "we got company."

Blaine stood up partially in the passenger seat to look around the larger Spartan's shoulders-

"Oh, Hell no," he said, watching as what looked like literally hundreds of Flood Combat Forms charged through the forest, toward the city. And at the rate they were going, the Warthog would be driving right through the middle of them. "Looks like they cracked your code, Sam."

"Get ready," Samuel said, ignoring the comment. He was gripping the steering wheel hard enough that Blaine could see the frame starting to bend, trying to keep the Warthog as balanced as possible as the edge of the ruined city came into view in the half-light of the dusk.

Blaine picked Samuel's Battle Rifle up from the floor of the passenger seat, aiming ahead at the street-wide group of Flood that had turned to meet them, and opened fire, pulling the trigger again and again until the magazine was completely empty. He'd dropped well over twenty of the creatures-

And others had already moved to fill the ranks, waiting patiently for the Warthog to exit the forest and be on open ground.

"We could go around," Blaine said, though he already knew what the answer would be.

"Not a chance."

* * *

BANG!

The M90 Shotgun rang out, echoing through the block and blasting another former-human right off its feet. This was the fourteenth one, and still, they kept coming, as if it didn't even matter.

_Of course, _Landon thought, rolling his eyes, _to them, it really doesn't._

Jason led the way into a four-story structure on one side of the street, and Landon slammed the door shut behind him, more out of habit than anything. The dozen windows that lined the outer walls made his efforts rather pointless: if the Flood wanted in, they'd come in.

A quick glance around was all it took to tell Landon that the area wasn't a great place to hide either. The inside had yet to be furnished or painted, and maintenance supplies littered the ground-

"Come on!" Jason shouted, sprinting to a ladder that ran up to the third story. Landon was sure the old ladder would snap beneath Jason's weight but, somehow, it held, and he followed close behind, all the way to the top.

CRASH!

The old, wooden door that had served as the entrance was blasted off its hinges as the Flood came charging in. Jason promptly turned around and kicked the ladder over and to the side, so that it fell diagonally through the room and landed flat on the ground.

"That'll slow 'em down." He said.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than one of the spider-like Flood crawled up from the second floor, appearing over the side as it stopped directly in their path and transformed into one of the hulking Tank Forms.

"Jason," Landon said as the creature began lumbering toward them, rearing one of its giant arms back.

"Yeah?"

"You ever get the feeling that this is just gonna be one of those days?"

Jason nodded. "Occasionally."

"Are you getting it now?"

Jason didn't answer. Instead, he stepped forward and ducked under the undead monster's great swing, jumped to the left, and activated both of his arm-shields before shoulder-checking the Tank Form as hard as he could.

The monster, still recovering from its huge strike, toppled over, falling from the third story, all the way to the ground floor-

And it had already transformed into the tiny, spider-looking Pure Form.

"Ah, come on!" Landon said. He was about to speak again when Jason grabbed his arm and almost yanked him off his feet as he sprinted into the next room.

* * *

"Step on it, Sam!" Blaine shouted from the passenger seat. Samuel glanced behind the LRV quickly before turning back around. "Don't look!" Blaine roared. "Just go, damn it!"

"No backseat driving!"

"I'm not in the back!"

"You will be if you don't shut up and let me drive!"

Blaine felt the 'Hog turn hard to the right, barely missing a Tank Form that was standing in the middle of the road. A second later, it was going straight down the road again, leaving the monster far behind them.

But it didn't matter. They were everywhere. Even after successfully splattering a dozen of them on the way through the horde, there were still hundreds left standing. Most of them were following directly behind the Warthog. The rest…

The rest seemed to be right in front of them.

"They're still gaining!" Blaine growled, getting the Battle Rifle back out and firing a few shots into the crowd behind them before turning around and throwing the gun to the floor. "For the record, there is nothing redeeming about small arms!" With that, he grabbed the Rocket Launcher from his back and turned around, working to aim it in the cramped space.

"Blaine, please don't hit the Warthog." Samuel said nonchalantly, never turning his head from the street in front of them.

"Burn in Hell you brain-dead bastards!" Two projectiles surged from the launcher, soaring right into the oncoming horde, and Blaine could almost feel the explosions as deteriorating limbs and bones flew around the LRV and splattered against every surface around them.

_Well,_ Blaine thought, _that could've gone-_

"Blaine!"

"What?"

"Blaine, turn around!"

"What are you-" He spun back around and immediately paused, mouth open wide. "Oh shit."

There were six of them, standing in groups on both sides of the street. They stood motionless in the half-light, still dressed in their dark, ONI-labeled suits-

And each one held a weapon identical to the one that Blaine had just fired twice into the horde.

"Get that hammer ready." Samuel said, turning to the white-armored Spartan for a split-second.

"Oh, I'm ready," he answered. "You just keep it steady."

"Here goes!"

Blaine felt the vehicle rush forward as Samuel accelerated, speeding down the street and getting ever-closer to the dangerous group of rocket-armed Combat Forms. The biomechanical Spartan wanted to look to Samuel's side, to see if his leader could possibly out-maneuver the rockets that were certainly on their way-

But he couldn't. He had to concern himself with the right side of the road, and the right side alone.

The first of the undead creatures fired, leading the vehicle and forcing Blaine to wait as he held the hammer high-

The LRV suddenly slowed dramatically as Samuel put the brake to the floor, and Blaine watched as the rocket he'd been watching flew in front of them, detonating against a two-story structure on the other side of the street-

Another rocket sped by, this one from Sam's side, and barely missed the group of Combat Forms on Blaine's half of the street.

"Good timing," Blaine managed.

"We're not out of the woods yet." Samuel said, accelerating again as the Combat Forms took aim once more.

Blaine braced himself for the shots he knew were coming. If the Flood missed once, it was a safe bet that Gravemind – being the nigh-omniscient creature that it was – would fix whatever mistakes had occurred. That meant that-

That instant, they fired, tearing the Spartan from his thoughts. All three of the Combat Forms fired this time, and they all aimed differently. One led the LRV considerably; another of them fired the shot just barely in front of them – Gravemind's insurance in case Samuel tried to brake again.

And the third was coming right at Blaine.

"Son of a bitch," he growled, leaning slightly outside the LRV in an attempt to get a good swing. It had to be perfect: if he leaned too far, he could tip the Warthog over. Not far enough, and the gravitational sphere created by the hammer would tip the 'Hog without any help from the biomechanical soldier's weight.

The vehicle suddenly swerved hard and accelerated, turning Blaine's attention from the rocket he'd been watching to the one that had been leading the 'Hog originally. Samuel's driving had saved them from multiple explosives, but it still left one more-

"You got your side?" Samuel shouted.

"Damn straight," Blaine answered, "get ready to hold it level!"

The 102mm explosive was less than ten feet away from Blaine now, and he leaned out farther and swung the massive hammer straight down-

BOOM!

The head of the weapon crashed into the road, producing a large sphere of altered gravity that sent the HEAT Rocket soaring up into the air, away from the LRV. Even so, Blaine felt his side of the vehicle lift up, off the ground-

CRASH!

The passenger-side slammed back into the ground as Samuel leaned over, all but sitting in the passenger seat as he distributed his weight more to Blaine's side.

"Not bad!" Sam yelled, straightening the course as they left the Combat Forms in the dust.

"Hell yeah," Blaine grinned, turning back toward the road before them.

And he stopped.

"Damn it!"

Three more of the explosive-wielding Combat Forms stood in their way, this time positioned right in the middle of the street in front of the LRV. Effortlessly, they lifted the launchers simultaneously-

And they fired.

* * *

_We're never gonna outrun them._ Jason realized as he led the way through yet another abandoned structure. He and Landon were covering as much ground as possible, trying to reach Stephanie, but he knew it was too far. The Flood were catching up to them too quickly, and throwing larger and larger forces their way each time they came close.

"Only a few more blocks!" Landon shouted. "We gotta pick up the pace! They're still gaining!"

Jason nodded in agreement. They had to put more distance between themselves and the Flood. There were more than three hundred of the undead creatures less than eighty feet behind them, and at the rate they were going, they'd overtake the Spartans by the next block.

"We're not gonna make it." Jason said, turning a hard right into a hallway. "We'll never outrun them like this."

"Hey! Knock that shit off!" Landon growled. "We just gotta move!"

Jason turned another corner and stopped cold.

They were in a huge, open room with a single stained glass window that covered most of the west side. Through it, Jason could barely make out the details of the street, four stories below.

It was empty.

Not a single Combat Form could be seen.

CRASH!

Something glass shattered a few rooms back, and Jason knew that the Flood were only moments from catching them. They couldn't outrun them, especially not now that they'd wasted time checking the street below.

Their only chance was to slow them down.

"Landon," he said, turning to the other Spartan. "Go."

"What?"

"Go, now!"

"Go where?"

"Out the window, now!"

"What about you?"

Jason took a deep breath. "I'll buy you some time."

"The Hell you will!" Landon was instantly furious. "We're both going, and we're going right now!"

Jason nodded. "Okay," he said, walking away from the window, "fine."

"Damn right it is-"

BOOM!

Jason fired the Brute Shot at the ground beside Landon's feet, causing him to stumble backwards, toward the window.

"What the Hell-"

Before he could recover, Jason ran up to him, activated his shields, and pushed Landon through the window. Thankfully, as he fell, the other Spartan righted himself and landed solidly on his feet.

"Jason!" his voice echoed in the gold-armored Spartan's helmet. "Jason! Come on!"

Jason shook his head, refusing to answer. He heard the Flood crash through the door to the adjacent room.

"Jason! No!" Landon was pleading now. "Please! Come on! Jason!"

CRASH!

The door to the room broke open, and in seconds, the Flood had engulfed him.

* * *

"Brace yourself!" Samuel shouted as the first volley was fired. The world seemed to slow as all three HEAT Rockets flew straight at the Warthog, and Sam hit the brakes just long enough to skid sideways and then turned hard, angling the 'Hog out of the rockets' paths-

They whistled by, traveling less than a full foot away from the LRV, and Samuel heard them detonate in the horde behind them as the 'Hog accelerated again.

"They're not gonna miss this time!" Blaine said.

"Tell me something I don't know!" Samuel snapped back. He was about to speak again when something appeared on his HUD. It was a status indicator-

And it read "Z-002".

"That's Stephanie!" Sam realized aloud. It had been months since he'd seen an indicator other than Blaine's or Zeke's. He waited anxiously as his HUD uploaded everything that it could from Stephanie's MJOLNIR armor. When it finished, his heart skipped a beat.

Her shields had been reduced to nothing, and her vital signs were all over the map. She had two fractured bones, and her visor had been slightly cracked in one corner.

"We gotta get to Steph!" Sam said, revving the engine as the Combat Forms prepared to fire again.

"Well," Blaine said, "we got two choices: go straight through 'em, or go around."

Samuel was already thinking it through. If they went around, they'd have to go at least two blocks farther, just to get back on the same track. Add to that the fact that the horde might manage to get in front of them, slowing them down even more-

She'd never make it.

"We're going straight!" He shouted. A second later, he remembered that Blaine had his Battle Rifle. "Can you pick them off with the BR?"

"No more magazines!" The other Spartan answered. Samuel let out a loud sigh.

"Get the hammer!"

"I got the damn hammer!" Blaine yelled. "But it's not a good idea-"

The Combat Forms suddenly fired again, this time in different spots, and immediately began to reload their weapons in case this blast should fail. Samuel scowled.

One rocket was heading straight for the Warthog, but the other two were going to fly by on either side – too close to fit the 'Hog between them, and too far for Samuel to go around.

_Here we go,_ he thought, turning for a split second before trying to even the vehicle out once more.

But it wasn't enough. They'd forced him to make a judgment call, and it was off – not by much, but it was. The LRV just couldn't accelerate fast enough to reach the safe, empty space between the incoming projectiles.

"Hit it, Blaine!" He shouted, bracing himself.

"We're gonna tip!"

"Hit the freakin' rocket-"

CRACK!

A single round hit the rear of the oncoming HEAT Rocket, throwing it out of balance and sending it spiraling up, into the air-

BOOM!

The explosion was less than ten meters away, and almost directly above Samuel's head, but it had missed the Warthog.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Three more rounds resounded throughout the block, and a trio of smoke trails appeared, each one leading to the chest cavity of a different Combat Form standing in the middle of the road ahead. A second later, each one was laying face-down in the street.

"Zeke," Samuel said quietly, following the smoke trails up to the roof of a large structure on the left side of the street. As he'd expected, however, there was no one there. The other Spartan apparently wasn't ready to show himself just yet.

As they drove over the corpses, Blaine casually reached over the side, picking up one of the freshly-loaded weapons. "At least the service is good," he joked, throwing the weapon into the back of the 'Hog.

"Which way do you think is faster?" Samuel asked, though he was mostly talking to himself. There was another block between them and the landing zone, and he could either go straight now and turn left later, or vice-versa. Perhaps it made no difference, but Samuel knew that they didn't have a second to spare-

"Stay straight." The male Spartan's voice echoed coldly inside his helmet.

"Did you hear that?" This time it was Blaine's voice in his helmet.

"Yeah," Sam answered. "I heard it."

"Proof enough for me." Blaine said. "Bastard's still alive."

"The rifle was proof enough for me." Sam answered, holding the vehicle straight as the horde gained more ground behind them. "I hope Zeke knows what he's-"

BOOM!

"What the Hell?"

The rear-view mirror showed only fire and destruction on the block behind them as the sea of Flood entered into it. Two large, towering structures abruptly caved and fell in on the street and the screaming undead, burning and-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

A series of smaller explosions rattled the road, and Samuel was sure he was hearing Antlion Anti-Personnel Mines.

"Zeke's been busy." He said, returning his attention to the road ahead as he rounded the next corner.

"She's up there," Blaine whispered.

"Stephanie!" Sam had put his foot to the floor, pushing the LRV as hard as it would go.

Stephanie wasn't even visible. All that Samuel could see was a giant, moving mass of undead limbs, a dog-pile of over a hundred Combat Forms that had surrounded and attacked the female Spartan with their greatest asset: sheer numbers.

The Warthog tore through the beginning of the group, and both Spartans jumped from the vehicle, right into the mass. Samuel located the center of the group and started grabbing the undead by whatever he could get a hold of – arms, legs, tentacles, necks, and heads – and throwing them as far away from Stephanie as he could. He could feel the impacts of dozens of small limbs crashing into his shields, but the brown-armored Spartan forced himself to ignore them as he tore a path down to the female Spartan-

"Sam?" she asked, her voice echoing in his helmet.

"We're here, Steph," he said, gripping another Combat Form and sending it skidding across the concrete as Blaine used his Gravity Hammer to clear the immediate area around them.

"Was…was wondering…when you might show up." She managed, slowly getting to her feet.

"Where are the others?" Blaine asked, backing toward the group with his hammer raised. Samuel risked a glance around to see the Flood assembled in a huge circle around them, slowly inching forward.

"They…landed…that way." She pointed loosely to the East. "I haven't…I haven't heard from them since then."

"Okay," Samuel said, forcing his mind to focus on the problem at hand. "We'll find them later. For now-"

Out of the corner of his eye, Samuel saw a Tank Form charge from the undead mass with startling speed, swinging one of its hulking limbs straight at Stephanie. He moved between them and put his arms up, absorbing the impact as he braced his feet against the road-

No sooner had the arm stopped moving that the other one came around behind Sam, wrapping him in a bear-hug of sorts with his arms pinned at his chest and his back to the Tank Form.

"Sam!"

Stephanie barely had time to speak before the horde charged on them. Samuel struggled to move, but couldn't overpower the Tank Form from his position. He was still thinking of a plan when he saw two hands grip the Pure Form's shoulders from behind, pulling the creature off-balance and letting it fall over backwards.

"Move your head." Blaine said calmly, and Samuel arched his neck right as the white-armored Spartan's boot crashed down on the creature's face.

Sam stood up amidst the chaos that had suddenly ensued. The Flood were upon them, but the majority were ignoring Blaine and Samuel, instead choosing to attack Stephanie with everything they had.

"Get them off her!" He shouted, and Blaine immediately brought the Gravity Hammer to bear. He ran up behind Stephanie and wrapped one arm around her waist, then slammed the head of the hammer down in front of her, holding her steady as every Combat Form in a fifteen-foot radius all but disintegrated in the resulting blast.

The rest of the horde backed away, giving Blaine and his hammer a fair bit of breathing room. Samuel glanced at Stephanie.

"Get between us."

She started to object, but Samuel shouted "now!" and the female Spartan moved behind Blaine. Samuel turned until his back to both of them, then quickly brought his twin Shotguns to bear. "Rest up. Let your shields recharge. We'll hold them off."

A painful-sounding laugh echoed in his helmet. "How?" she asked, breathing heavily in between words. "You bring…backup?"

"In a manner of speaking," a familiar voice echoed, "yes."

Samuel smiled. _It's about time you showed up._

* * *

Blaine watched with a cold, detached demeanor as the black-armored soldier appeared atop the tallest building on the block: a nine-story office building at the northwest corner. Zeke had always been about entrances, so it was no surprise when the Spartan leapt from his perch, performing a trio of effortless backflips before landing solidly on one knee on the road, thirty feet from Blaine and the others.

"What?" Blaine asked cynically. "No fireworks?"

Ezekiel stood up. Without a word, he brought one hand up in front of his face and snapped his fingers.

Simultaneously, the remains of a tiny pawn shop on one side of the street and the ruins of another, similarly-sized structure across from it detonated in a brilliant blaze of red and orange flame, swallowing dozens of the nearest Combat Forms on both sides of the road, and turning the Flood's circle of undead into a pair of unlinked masses on both sides.

"We meet again," Zeke said with a nod. "Good to see you made it back, Samuel."

"Nice to see you're still alive and kickin' too," he answered. Blaine scowled.

"Yeah," he snapped, "also nice to see that you're still as concerned with your entrances as ever. Maybe if you put that much effort into your combat skills-"

"Blaine," Samuel's voice echoed in his helmet, "stop."

Blaine growled under his breath. "Glad to see you managed to stay alive."

Ezekiel scoffed. "As if it were ever a question," he answered indignantly.

_Arrogant little bastard,_ Blaine thought bitterly.

* * *

Ezekiel shrugged, letting out a loud sigh. Then he turned his head to look at the group of Combat Forms standing between him and the others. "What about you fools?" The Flood hadn't moved an inch since he'd made his appearance. "You just gonna stand there all day, or are we gonna put you back in the ground for good?"

"With so much blood on your hands, you want to settle the score." Gravemind's voice reverberated inside his mind. "But it's as your kind once said: be careful what you wish for."

The second the words finished in his mind, the Flood scattered, running and jumping in all directions before abruptly turning around and converging on the Spartans at a dead-sprint.

"Remember: you asked for this." Demon said from inside the Spartan's helmet.

"That I did," Zeke answered with a smile. For the first time in weeks, he could take his mind off of everything but the fight at hand. The memories of Travis and his mother, of the Lawrence family, even those of Victoria – all the things that had been eating away at him for so long – were pushed to the back of his mind as the Flood charged him from all around.

This was what he had trained for. It was what he was made to do.

It was the feeling that he lived for.

_And now, back to Hell with all of you!_

Six plasma-covered blades appeared in the ever-darkening light, two of them in his hands and the other four mounted to his armor. The Combat Forms came from every direction, but they might as well have been standing still. With no one to protect, no one to look after, Ezekiel's abilities – just like those of the other Spartans – far surpassed anything the Flood could throw at him with mere Combat Forms.

The first one came from behind, running and screaming until Zeke thrust his left elbow back, letting the attached offensive-mount puncture the creature's chest cavity with ease. When another came from the right, he swung his right arm and cut it in half with the sword in his hand, crouching low at the end of the strike in preparation for the rest of them.

Even to Ezekiel, the rest of his fight was a blur, as if his own body was acting without his knowledge or consent – he simply spun around, again and again, thrusting blades in every direction and decimating the forces that came anywhere near him. In twenty seconds, what had once been a group of more than forty Combat Forms had been reduced to eight.

"This the best you've got?" Zeke asked calmly, looking directly at one of the Combat Forms. "I'm disappointed." He deactivated the two swords and left only the four offensive-mounts glowing with plasma.

Immediately, they were on him, jumping and screeching and swinging their brutally-strong tentacles in all directions-

"You're way too slow." Zeke spun around, bending his arms and using the blades on his elbows to cut through as many of the rotting limbs as he could. As the owners of the cut appendages reared back, both hands reached for his thighs, and he brought both M6G Pistols up to his chest.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The force was cut in half as the creatures nearest all dropped from shots to the chest, destroying the Infection Form that had taken root.

"Game, set, and match." The Spartan mused, taking aim at the remaining four before-

BOOM!

A single explosion erupted from the ground behind them and engulfed all four of the remaining undead. Zeke was still looking for the source when Blaine spoke.

"Quit screwing off." He said. "What? You can kill a few Combat Forms? Good for you." He paused. "Nobody gives a damn! Notice how we're already done with ours." He motioned at the circle of corpses around himself, Samuel, and Stephanie.

Zeke shook his head. "Wow." He said. "What's got you so pissed?"

Blaine didn't answer.

"Well?"

"None of your damn bus-"

"Landon!" Stephanie suddenly turned away from them and was looking down one of the adjacent streets. "Landon!"

Ezekiel glanced over just as the other Spartan's tag appeared in his HUD.

"Guys," Landon's voice echoed inside Zeke's helm. "Jason." He said in between ragged breaths. "They got Jason."

* * *

Landon ran as fast as he could manage down the street, toward his four allies and away from the horde that had mysteriously disappeared from behind him. Even after Jason had tried to hold them off and his tag had vanished from Landon's HUD, the horde had kept coming, following him all the way until just a few moments before, right as he rounded the final corner that let him physically see his teammates.

Now the Flood had completely vanished.

"They got Jason," he repeated, limping the final steps toward Samuel, Stephanie, and Blaine. Ezekiel stood farther away, at one end of the street. Structures on both sides had been reduced to rubble, and hundreds of corpses littered the ground.

"What happened?" Samuel asked as he and Stephanie sprinted to him and lifted him up by the shoulders, helping him to reach the rest of the group.

"They were right on our asses." Landon said, working to calm down. He'd all but watched Jason die, and it was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to completely break down. "He…" Landon shook his head, holding back tears. "He pushed me out a window." He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Was trying to buy me some time."

"My God," Stephanie whispered.

"Yeah," Landon answered. "I can't believe he's gone eit-"

"No," she said, cutting him off. "Look." She pointed behind him, and Landon turned around-

"Oh God," he said, repeating Stephanie's sentiments. "It can't be."

Jason was walking down the street, coming straight for them. His walk was steady and calm, as if nothing had ever happened.

"It can't be." Landon repeated.

"It's not." Samuel said. "That's not Jason." He paused. "He's been infected."

"No," Landon said, shaking his head. "No way."

The armored form reached up with one hand, pulling helmet from its head. Landon was only slightly surprised when Jason waved at them all with his free hand, smiling as he held his helmet in the other.

"It's a lie." Zeke growled, his voice echoing inside Landon's helmet. "Take my word for it: Gravemind's a spectacular liar, and he's pulling your strings right now."

Deep down, Landon knew that Zeke and Sam were right. Jason couldn't survive such an encounter, not with the limited firepower he had. Landon was looking at a soldier in the Flood's army, one that looked remarkably like his best friend.

"Damn you," he said, looking at Jason but seeing the Flood. "Damn all of you!" He pulled the Shotgun from his back and leveled it as he walked toward the Combat Form, working to keep his hands steady.

"Woah," Jason's voice echoed in his head as he put his hands up. "What's that for?" He motioned to his chest. "Oh! You think that I'm…" he drifted off. "Come on, man. You know better." He continued to walk forward.

Landon kept the Shotgun pointed at the Combat Form, but the words unnerved him. It sounded so much like Jason. Was there a chance…?

"Stop right there!" he shouted, and the soldier halted. "Just stop!" Landon worked to keep himself calm.

"Man, it's okay," Jason said, starting to walk again, dropping his helmet and putting his hands up in front of him as if to show that he was unarmed. "It's just me, alright? Just me."

"Landon, let me-" Samuel started, but Landon cut him off.

"No!" he snapped. "I know Jason, and this-"

"Isn't him!" Samuel finished.

"Sam, come on. It's me. Why's everyone so edgy?" Jason was still walking, and now he was just over ten feet from Landon.

"I said to stop!" Landon shouted, pumping the Shotgun. "No closer!" He punctuated the sentence by firing a shot into the ground.

"Come on, Landon," he said smiling half-heartedly, seemingly unfazed by the shot, "you're not really gonna shoot me, are you?" He was now only three feet from the blue-armored Spartan, and was reaching out his right hand. "Just give me the gun and we'll fig-"

CRACK!

Blood exploded from the newly-made hole in Jason's chest, and as the Spartan gasped for breath, falling to his knees, Landon glanced backwards in horror-

Ezekiel Veron was standing straight up and completely motionless, holding the Sniper Rifle level at his chest, with the barrel still pointed at the dying Spartan.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" Landon roared, turning fully around. "Are you out of your God-damned mind? He's one of us!"

* * *

**Author's Notes: Well, that's all for this one. And, hopefully you'll be happy to know: I've just started work on the next chapter. I've got all night to work on it, and I hope to make some real progress into it. Deadlines, I feel, hate me, as whenever I think I can make one, some chance event always seems to pop up, so I'm' not gonna give you one. I'll just tell you that it'll be ready ASAP, and I look forward to reading what you thought. Thanks all!**


	7. Chapter 6: Evacuation

**Author's Notes: So, two weeks...roughly. Unfortunately my attempt at a "standard" time-lapse. Regardless, this chapter's back up to being decent length, lots of action for those of you who enjoy it. Anyway, less talking on my part: more review-answering and chapter-reading, lol**

**REVIEWS:**

**armoured-blade: Consider it savored and enjoyed. Mwahaha! And I can't help but agree with you: is anyone truly surprised? Especially after what happened with Travis? Glad you liked the combat...really wasn't my favorite, but it wasn't terrible, I suppose. In regards to your questions: Blaine and Sam brought all the ammo they could afford to bring. As you'll see here in a chapter or two, their supplies are running relatively thin. They brought the vast majority of what they could afford. Oh, and don't worry: Landon's lines are required by law in my book, lol. Thanks a lot for reading, and for proofing this next one for me.**

**killerman83ca: lol, I have to say: I have no idea who the people are that you mentioned in your review. Best of luck with it though! Also, no apologies necessary for announcing ODST, lol. Honestly, if I had the cash, I'd buy it in a heartbeat. Thanks for reviewing, and enjoy the next one!**

**The Not-So Addict: Hey! I guess I'll do questions first:  
1. As far as Landon escaping them after they took Jason goes, it's just a toss-up situation. In essence, Jason was "engulfed" by the horde of them instantly, but they still took a few seconds to jump down and start the chase again. By that time, Landon is on a dead-sprint, and Gravemind is developing other plans (as is hinted at by the fact that he sends Jason in alone to get to Landon). It was just a specific judgment call on my part as to how to do it, so I do understand the issue with it.  
2. He has shields and the Brute Shot, but the sheer numbers were enough that, even with his own advantages, he was simply overrun. I could have specified that he fired into the crowd or tried to fight them off, but the ultimate result would have been the same regardless: in a matter of seconds, the Flood had engulfed him.  
3. As for his shields when Zeke fires: I've always understood the shielding systems on the MJOLNIR armor to be a "package" of sorts. The shields are made of a field that surrounds the entire suit of armor. When he took the helmet off, he broke the field, and cancelled all of it. This may not be "canon" so to speak, but it's not specifically explained anywhere, and I felt that it was a logical conclusion.  
****Regardless, thank you for your input and your questions, and I hope you enjoy what's to come!**

**The Elven-Spear: lol, thank you! But...the characters are the true stars. :) I just write them out, lol.**

**FireWolfFred: Now now, not R.I.P. just yet, lol. And yep, the team's coming together again. As for Zeke...same old, hehehe. Oh, and as for your question: you should get the answers you're looking for in Chapter 7, actually. Yeah, I'm finally making good on it: one more chapter, lol. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Ildina Dusklea: lol, I seriously just had Jason shot, yes. And yeah...Landon will take a very similar stance as you just did, haha. Thanks very much!**

**RandomMAn: Hey, let's be fair here: can he be both? ;) Thank you much for your review! Enjoy!**

**Taylor114: I'll take your word for it, lol. And it's okay; the last chapter didn't have a terrible lot of substance to it, so I can't complain. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one a bit more. Oh, and I promise: no cliffhanger this time. Thanks!**

**ching965: Glad you enjoyed the last two chapters! In regards to Chapter 4: it took some time to get everything right, but it all seemed to work out in the end. The last one, to answer what you were saying about Gravemind: I don't know to what extent he has control over an individual, but I know that he has full control over their body and can (in time) take over every memory they have. I kind of went out a limb with the speaking part (but only because I did it once in TLS and because there's no canon-provided source specifically saying that he can't), but as for him "maintaining Jason's personality", he didn't really incorporate very much except for his knowledge of Jason, and after watching their fight against the Flood on Earth, it wouldn't be difficult for him to assume some kind of personal bond. Just my defenses of my choices, to assure you that they weren't COMPLETELY without research or consideration. Oh, and Zeke did react very much on the side of caution...but to say he "overreacted" might be a stretch...well, you'll see. Thanks for your reviews! Enjoy what's on the way!**

**Drake Hellion: Gracias. And yeah, Zeke hasn't changed. Jason hasn't quite bitten the dust just yet...but he's definitely been better. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like the end of the my little section on Mahe'.**

**Suliac Griffin: Hey, glad to see you're still reading along and enjoying it. You're absolutely right about Zeke: are the changes for better or for worse? And that's something that will come out in time. I'll be sure to remember what you said about trying to follow so many people at once. Hopefully (and I've looked through my outline) it won't be quite that bad any other time throughout the story. Also, you made a good point with your second comment as well, and it is something that I've thought about quite a bit. The fact is: right now, I only get to use the bare minimum of the Flood: Combat, Carrier, Infection, and Pure Forms. Later on, I'll be adding some imposing enemies to their roster to spice it up. I guess in all this, my point is: I promise you, the Flood are very capable of carrying the role as the "main enemy" for an entire story, and I will do all I can to prove it to you. :) Thanks very much, and enjoy the next one!**

**DoctorG27: lol, well, look forward no more! It has arrived! Thanks!**

**Samson00: You!!! lol. No worries man, I know you've been busy. After all, internships come before friend's crazy ramblings and proofreading. ;) Hopefully we can get together again (or you'll get some time to get online) and I can quit bugging Ben to proof for me. hahaha. Take care, and I'll chat at you later.  
P.S. - I have monies for you, lol. Don't let me forget.**

**hellhound cerberus: lol, glad to see that you're still around and reading! As for your question: no need for a hint. You'll be getting all the answers you need next chapter, rest assured. Enjoy the fights ahead, and I look forward to hearing from you! Thanks!**

**Alright, with that taken care of, I conclude the little mini-segment on Mahe', lol. Without delay, Chapter 6!**

* * *

**Chapter 6:**

– **Evacuation–**

**2100 Hours - July 12, 2553**

******Victoria, Mahé** - Sychelles Islands, East Of Africa

"He wasn't one of us." Zeke's voice was level and cold as he answered Landon, lowering the rifle slowly.

"You didn't know that!" Landon yelled back. "How could you have?"

Samuel shook his head in disbelief. His plan was falling apart already. He could see their chances shattering as he looked at Jason, who was just lying there, dying on the ground with Stephanie sitting beside him, trying to help.

"It had to happen." Zeke answered bluntly.

"What?" Landon shouted. "Is killing one teammate not enough for you?"

Samuel's head snapped up and out of his trance in an instant. "Landon," he said, shaking his head as he singled him out, "don't go there."

"What did you say?" Ezekiel's tone suddenly lowered dangerously, and Samuel knew instantly how close to the edge Landon was.

"Yeah," the other Spartan yelled, furious and shaken. "Yeah, I heard! I heard all about what happened up there." He glanced up to the sky. "Wasn't enough to ki-"

"Landon," Samuel growled, "shut up. Now."

"What?" he asked defensively. "You gonna take his side?"

"Not a chance." Samuel said. "But you're not focused, Landon. He is." The brown-armored Spartan hesitated, trying to choose how to word his next statement. Finally, he finished, "if you provoke him now, he'll tear you apart."

"Let him try!" Landon was still shouting. "Hey! How 'bout it? You wanna add a third teammate to your record?" He began walking toward Zeke.

"You got two choices, Landon." The black-armored Spartan said bitterly, still unmoving. "You can come over here and have me kill you, or you can turn around and make sure Jason doesn't take his last breath with just Stephanie to keep him company."

His last words stopped Landon in his tracks, as he turned around to look at Jason, who was coughing painfully, clutching his chest.

"You son of a bitch," he said in all but a whisper. "You worthless-"

"Tick-tock, Landon," Zeke said, interrupting him. "He's running out of time. We can pick this up later."

"Damn right we will," Landon finished before quickly turning and tending to Jason.

With the most urgent crisis avoided, Samuel immediately stalked over to Ezekiel, working to keep his own reaction calm and collected. It was harder than he originally imagined, however.

"Give me that," he snapped, violently jerking the rifle from his hands.

"Hey!"

"Not a word, Zeke," he snarled, "not one."

"He was infe-"

"I don't care!" Suddenly Samuel found himself shouting, and he had to work even harder to maintain his own emotions. "Have you lost your mind?"

"My mistake," Zeke answered angrily. "I thought Jason's chances were better with one round from my rifle than a shot from Landon's M90. Next time I'll just-"

"Enough!" Samuel put one hand up to silence the smaller soldier, then turned around. "Status!" A second later, he added, "please."

"We've got all the biofoam we can get stuffed into the wound." Stephanie answered after a second of silence. "The bullet went straight in and popped the Infection Form, but it missed all his vitals." She paused. "He's lucky. Two centimeters in any direction, and he'd be dead for sure."

Zeke scoffed loudly behind Samuel.

"He needs medical attention, Sam!" Landon shouted, and the leading Spartan could hear the emotion flooding his voice. "We have to get him out of here!"

Samuel nodded, closing his eyes. Landon was right, but he had no idea how to go about it. They only had one Warthog, and it wouldn't carry more than a few of the Spartans – and certainly not five or six. There had to be another way. If they could manage to get into the forest…

"Stay here." Zeke growled.

Samuel turned. "What?"

"Stay here." He repeated harshly. "And give me my damned rifle."

Reluctantly, Samuel handed it over. "Where are you going?"

"To get you a ride."

* * *

Ezekiel seethed silently to himself as he stalked off the street, watching the remains of the sun disappear behind the horizon. _Who the Hell is Landon to question my motives?_ He asked himself, shaking his head furiously as he worked to keep his emotions from bubbling to the surface. _And Victoria…he wasn't even there. What right does he have to-_

"You okay?" Demon's voice was irritatingly loud inside the Spartan's head.

"Fine," Zeke growled, shutting the digital entity up for the moment. He had enough on his mind without having to explain any of it to the pest that was his AI.

First and foremost, he had to locate and bring back the Warthog he'd hidden in this part of the city two-and-a-half weeks ago. _It should only be a couple of blocks from here,_ he thought, _that is, assuming the Flood haven't already stumbled upon it._ At the last thought, Ezekiel grinned.

It was a safe bet that they hadn't. Located in a hollowed-out construction-size dumpster, covered in camouflage-cloaks…

No, they hadn't found it.

"Zeke?" the AI's voice echoed in his head again, though this time laced with apprehension.

"What now?" the Spartan answered.

"Have you noticed a distinct lack of a certain Parasite since Jason showed back up?"

Zeke stopped walking, focusing on his senses and his memories. Demon was right. Since Jason had appeared on the street, the Flood had vanished, not just from sight, but from every sense he had. Even with his augmented sense of smell, he hadn't caught anything but fading scents – signs that the Flood had been there, but weren't now.

"We have to go." Ezekiel concluded, mostly talking to himself. "This is about to get bad."

* * *

"Keep him steady," Landon said, holding one side of the wounded Spartan that was Jason Zant. He and every other present Spartan were carefully moving him into the back of the Transport Warthog that Samuel and Blaine had arrived in. "Easy…easy!"

Finally, they set him down, coughing and groaning in pain. Blaine knew that, ironically, it wasn't the most immediate threat to his life: the single hole in his chest, which was causing him most of the agony. It was the damage done by the Infection Form when it had all but forced his organs out of the way to make room for its detestable body. A couple of his bones were cracked; his spinal cord was surely damaged from the infection process…

_Although, that lone 14.5mm round lodged somewhere in his chest probably isn't helping either,_ the white-armored Spartan admitted to himself.

"How long 'til we can take him out of here?" Landon asked. "He won't last long on biofoam. He needs actual treatment."

Samuel nodded. "I know. But we have to wait for Zeke. Knowing him, he'll be back in a few minutes, and with a second vehicle."

"When he comes back," Stephanie added, "we need to get the rest of the pods."

"Why's that?"

"Agnes sent us with the best. There are multiple Fury Tactical Nukes, a pair of HAVOK Nuclear Warheads, and several uniquely-designed weapons to help us survive until we can get to extraction."

Blaine smirked at the idea of extraction. There wasn't a dog's chance in Hell that Samuel would bite on that particular plan.

"We'll find them as soon as Zeke gets back with our ride." Samuel said, concluding the discussion on the pods.

"You think he could store something large enough to take three of us out of here and not have the Flood find it?" Landon asked skeptically.

Sam shrugged. "Oh yeah," he said confidently.

Blaine agreed. The city was fairly large, and even if the Flood did conduct any kind of routine searches, Ezekiel was smart enough to elude them if he wanted. It wasn't a huge feat, especially not when the Spartans had been living on an island to themselves for so long doing exactly that: evading the Flood.

"Speaking of," Stephanie said abruptly, "where are the Flood?" She glanced back and forth. "We haven't seen a single Combat Form since Jason got here."

Blaine realized the implications instantly. The Flood had tons of forces amassed on Mahé', and more on the way. If they weren't showing themselves now, there could only be one reason.

They were gathering.

_If the Flood hit us now,_ he thought, _we don't have the firepower to-_

He was cut off by the sound of a car alarm going off several blocks away.

"Shit." He reached for the Gravity Hammer on his back.

"My sentiments exactly," Samuel added, pumping the Shotguns. He turned to Landon. "Watch Jason," he turned toward the direction of the sound. "I got a bad feeling about this one."

Blaine brought the hammer to bear, watching the end of the street in the darkness that was quickly overcoming what little light remained to mark the day's passing. At first, he caught only glimpses, a few shadows moving at the edge of perception.

And then he saw them.

The image brought back memories of his time on the Assault Carrier, when he had been forced to all but completely clear a room full of the disgusting creatures. Back then, they had been a horde of unarmed zombies – hundreds of dangerous limbs all being controlled by the same mind. Now, however, things were even worse.

Even at a distance of several blocks, Blaine could make out glowing Covenant weapons in their ranks, along with the occasional glint of metal in the fading light. These bastards were armed – heavily.

"We're in trouble, Sam." He said bluntly. "There's gotta be five-hundred of them in there." And that was his low estimate.

"Yeah," the leader answered. "I was thinkin' six."

"I have to get Jason outta here!" Landon said. "If we can get to the edge of the city, we can-"

"Do what?" Blaine asked harshly, cutting him off. "Die in the jungle?" He shook his head, spinning the hammer almost casually. "To Hell with that. This battle will be fought and finished, right here!" He stomped his right foot, burying it in the concrete as he squared off with the oncoming attack.

"Not gonna lie," Landon said, "for once, I wish Zeke were here."

"Consider that your one wish, then," the other Spartan's voice sounded in Blaine's helmet, along with those of the others. "I got your ride, and I'll round the corner behind you in fifteen seconds."

Sure enough, a quarter of a minute later, the black-armored soldier came around the corner behind them, driving-

"Is that a-?"

"Well, hot damn," Landon said, those words the first lighthearted ones to leave his mouth since Jason reappeared. "He brought a LAAG!"

Ezekiel pulled up beside the Transport 'Hog and spun his own LRV around so that the back was facing the oncoming horde, which was now two blocks away and closing.

"Oh, it's been too long!" Landon said, crawling up onto the gun and leveling it in the direction of the Flood. "Alright, you freaks, come and get it!"

"Blaine," Samuel said, "you're in charge of watching the 'Hogs."

The white-armored Spartan cocked an eyebrow, even though Sam couldn't see it. "Watching?"

"Keep the 'Hogs from being hit with anything that explodes," Samuel clarified. "Put that hammer to good use." He motioned to the giant, alien bludgeon.

Blaine smiled. "You got it."

"Stephanie," Samuel was still issuing orders, "you help me watch the back. Zeke: you've got CQ duty with Blaine if they make it that far."

_Great,_ Blaine thought bitterly, _Close-Quarters Combat with the arrogant little pest…just like old times._

"And Landon," Samuel added calmly, "why aren't you shooting?"

"Oh," he answered, letting loose with the LAAG, "right. My bad."

Blaine shook his head. He'd watched the blue-armored soldier glance over to check on Jason at least four times. He needed to get his head back on straight, or Samuel was going to have to do it for him.

"So, think you can still hold your own?" Zeke asked, standing with his arms crossed at his chest, leaning against the Transport Warthog as the horde grew ever-closer.

Blaine scowled. "I'm certainly capable of slaughtering these creeps, if that's what you're asking."

"Well, that doesn't prove much." The other Spartan mocked. "I meant in a real fight, after spending all your time babysitting." He let out a short laugh but otherwise remained unmoving.

The white-armored soldier shook his head, forcing his normal reactions to the back of his mind. There was a job to do, and putting the little prick in his place could wait until later.

It wasn't as if he would be lucky enough to see the day that Ezekiel left again.

"Incoming," Zeke said casually, still unmoving. Blaine nodded as a single Combat Form leapt from the oncoming horde and fired a pair of HEAT rockets in their direction, one right after the other.

Blaine stepped forward and swung the hammer into the ground, creating an altered sphere of gravity that sent the first rocket spiraling up into the air, where it detonated harmlessly. The second one came, and he repeated the process-

This time, the altered gravity sent the explosive flying to the left, where it hit the ground and exploded less than ten meters from Ezekiel, who had finally uncrossed his arms, just in time to block the brunt of the blast.

"Watch what the Hell you're doing!" he shouted.

Blaine grinned. "Yeah," he said, "sorry about that."

The white-armored Spartan turned back to the oncoming wave, which had been substantially reduced by the never-ending spray of gunfire that was coming from the LAAG. Now, groups of Tank Forms had taken to the front lines, taking quite a bit more fire before dropping and allowing the Combat Forms behind them to get closer than ever.

"Looks like we're gonna have to get our hands dirty after all." Zeke said.

"Looks like it," Blaine agreed. He focused on Samuel and Stephanie behind them. "You guys doing okay back there?"

A single blast from a Shotgun echoed across the street. "We're fine," Samuel said. "Nothing but a couple of them coming from behind."

"Good to hear," Blaine answered. "We're about to get hit hard up here, so watch your backs. I'll stop what I can, but-"

"We got it, Blaine," Sam said. "We'll be fine. Just make sure Zeke does his job, and watch Landon's back."

"Check and double-check, Sam," Blaine said with a nod. He watched as the front lines of the Flood's force gave way beneath the suppressing power of the LAAG, and another group of Tank Forms rose up to take the places of their fallen allies.

"They're just gonna keep coming!" Landon shouted as the first of the group finally got within a block's distance away and began opening fire with a variety of small arms. "We need another turret!"

"You get one!" Blaine yelled back. "And that's more than we get, so shut the Hell up and shoot!" At that moment, a Combat Form leapt from the oncoming waves, straight toward Landon-

BANG!

A single round from one of Zeke's M6G Pistols popped the Infection Form inside the detestable creature, and it fell to the ground with a dull thud as the front lines of the oncoming mass finally made it to the Spartans.

"You guys picked the wrong day," Blaine growled, slamming the hammer into the ground before him and decimating the nearest enemies. He started spinning then, waving the giant bludgeon around and sending it crashing into any of the creatures unfortunate enough to be in his way. Spheres of modified gravity appeared and disappeared, wrecking havoc with the undead ranks and throwing their corpses in every direction-

And they stopped.

There were still more to be killed, but far and wide, the Combat Forms stopped, their ranks surrounding the Spartans on all sides, still armed, but now just standing there, as if waiting for something. It was as if they were suddenly waiting on the moment to-

BOOM!

The ruins of the pawnshop that Ezekiel had destroyed with his little lightshow were suddenly thrown in all directions as a hulking biped leapt through the smoke, appearing on the darkened street, waving its menacing tentacles through the air.

"Juggernaut!" Blaine shouted, but it was too late. Samuel had only just turned around to face the monster when its giant limb was sent crashing into his gut, sending him spiraling along the ground. Stephanie was on the attack in an instant, but the same limb stabbed the ground in front of her, then whipped straight up, catching her in the chest and throwing her through a third-story window on the other side of the street.

"What the Hell is that?" Zeke yelled, drawing back as Landon turned the LAAG on the new threat.

Blaine was shocked. "You've never seen one?" he asked.

Zeke glanced at him for only a second. "If I had, would I have asked what the damn thing was?" With that, the Spartan clenched his fists at his sides, and Blaine watched as two Energy Swords erupted from-

Nothing.

There was nothing in either of his hands.

It only took a second for Blaine to understand. Before the Flood had arrived, Ezekiel had left the medical facilities on Madagascar with no explanation to anyone as to where he was headed. Now Blaine knew exactly where he'd gone: to a private company, likely the same one that Magnus had been sent to for his own implants.

"Looks like training isn't the only thing you've been up to," Blaine snapped, focusing his communication link only on the other Spartan.

Zeke glanced down at his hands and the swords vanished, then he looked back up. "Mind your own business," he growled. "We can bicker about ethics later. For now we need to-"

He was cut off as the LAAG unleashed its fury on the giant Pure Form, and the remaining Combat Forms charged from all sides, splitting into two groups and focusing on the two Spartans still manning Warthogs: Landon and Jason.

Blaine chose to ignore both Ezekiel and the Juggernaut for the moment, instead moving between the oncoming waves and Jason's unconscious form on the Transport 'Hog, hammer raised. When the first of the undead got within striking distance, he slammed the head down and sent them flying backwards.

"Oh shit!"

* * *

The world seemed to slow as the Warthog was sent toppling end-over-end by the Juggernaut's limbs, spilling Landon off the LAAG and tossing him into a group of almost thirty Combat Forms. Zeke could only watch as the vehicle turned and began to roll, stopping only when it collided with a brick wall bordering an alley.

"Demon, what the Hell is that thing?" He yelled, glaring at the monstrosity that was still towering over him.

"Scanning," the AI answered casually.

"Scanning?" Zeke repeated. "What the Hell does that mean?" A second later, he finished, "I don't want you to scan it! I want you to tell me what the damn thing is!"

"It's…a Pure Form." Samuel said, and Ezekiel realized that he hadn't narrowed his communication line to only his own helmet. "It's formed from three times the Flood biomass as a Tank Form. It's quick, resilient to attack and each of those tentacles can stab through-"

"Yeah," Zeke growled, "Okay. I got it. Long tentacles are bad. Big, ugly, undead behemoths are no fun to play with." He jumped backwards as one of the aforementioned limbs stabbed into the concrete where he'd just been standing.

"Zeke!" Sam yelled. "The tentacles are tough! You can't just-"

Ezekiel tuned him out, clenching his fists at his sides and reactivating the two swords from a minute before, rolling his eyes as he did so. In truth, the black-armored Spartan had hoped to keep his implants a secret for as long as possible, as he knew that no one – especially Samuel – would approve of his decision.

_Not that their opinions matter,_ he thought. _I just don't need them having yet another reason to bitch at me._

"So…" Demon said, drawing the word out as Zeke looked up at the giant Pure Form. "How exactly do you wanna go about this?"

Ezekiel's eyes went wide for a second as he considered his options. Those tentacles, from what he'd seen, were fairly quick and well-equipped for impaling whatever they could-

CRASH!

Zeke felt a wave of energy impact with his right side as Blaine's hammer slammed into the ground again. He quickly recovered and righted himself, hearing quick, light footsteps behind him followed by that insufferable screeching.

"You know," he said, spinning around to face the single former-human, "I might not be so inclined to kill you if you'd just shut the Hell up once in a while."

The creature paid him no regard, leaping into the air and opening fire with an SMG that Ezekiel hadn't even seen in its hand. The bullets hit his shields, doing minimal damage but still hitting in a constant stream as the monster hit the ground a foot away and swung wide-

A single, white-hot blade of pure plasma cut the Combat Form in two, melting the flesh and even slicing through the SMG in an instant.

Zeke scoffed at the assault, glancing in the direction of his teammates. Samuel was back on his feet and working to keep the Flood away from Jason. Stephanie hadn't reappeared from the window, and Landon was still holding his own in the midst of the undead. Blaine, on the other hand, was doing more than that.

The white-armored Spartan was swinging his hammer like some kind of Hellish cross between a baseball star and a top-tier psychopath, tearing into whatever Gravemind was foolish enough to send his way. His Gravity Hammer was hitting the ground a dozen times in as many seconds, slamming this way and that and sending the rotting corpses of the Flood's forces careening into walls, windows, and, in some cases, each other.

_For spending all of his time babysitting the civilians,_ Zeke mused, _he's managed to keep his skills up to par…not bad._

"Zeke, watch your back!" Sam shouted, and the black-armored soldier spun around just in time to feel the Juggernaut's limb sweep his legs out from under him, leaving him falling forward, facing the ground.

Reacting on instinct, he thrust his arms out in front of him and tilted his body so that he landed on his hands and threw himself forward-

CRASH!

The second limb crashed straight down into the ground where he had just been falling only a quarter-of-a-second before, smashing through the concrete and sending pieces of white rock flying through the air.

"Okay," Zeke growled, standing up to face the monster, furious at his lack of focus but otherwise unfazed by the attack. "Playtime's over."

* * *

"He's gonna get himself killed," Gael said, her voice echoing inside Samuel's helmet as Ezekiel charged the Juggernaut head-on, Energy Swords activated and glowing brightly in the darkness.

Sam shook his head as the smaller Spartan leapt into the air and brought the blades down on one of the monster's limbs-

The super-resilient tentacle withstood the cut and Ezekiel seemed to freeze in time, hovering there in disbelief as the monster's other limb came up behind him at insane speeds, crashing into his back and launching him into the wall of a nearby structure. Sam winced at the impact and watched his fellow soldier fall to the ground in a heap.

"He doesn't know about the tentacles! They're basically the Flood's equivalent of the Stalkers' claws: super-strong and all-but impervious to plasma!" Gael shouted, her voice riddled with annoyance even as she explained the concept that Samuel already knew. "Does he listen to anyone?"

"Not to me," Samuel said, firing the Shotgun in his right hand and decapitating a pair of Combat Forms. "He blocked my communications when I tried to explain the Juggernaut's traits."

"Pure arrogance," the AI said bitterly, "that's all it is: unchecked, unrestrained hubris and pride."

Samuel scowled. "Blaine!" he shouted, and the other Spartan immediately turned toward him.

"Yeah?"

"Watch Jason for me."

"What are you doing?"

He sighed. "I'm gonna go help Zeke."

Blaine nodded, moving over the Transport Warthog, still with the hammer ready. "You sure you wanna help him?" he asked. "I mean, it might do him some good, a good beating."

"Trust me," Samuel said, "I considered it." With that, he turned and opened fire on the Juggernaut with his twin Shotguns, pulling its attention away from the still-recovering Ezekiel.

"Don't…help me!" Zeke shouted immediately.

Sam was baffled. "What did you say?"

"I said…" he paused, standing up and panting for breath. "I don't need your help! Go get the other Warthog turned over and check on Stephanie! I'll handle this!"

"Your vitals are all over the place," Sam reasoned. "You're bleeding in two places and-"

"I told you: I'll handle it!" With that, he activated the Energy Swords again and charged the enormous Pure Form.

"Just forget it," Gael said. "He won't die to that thing, and maybe Blaine's right: maybe it'll do him some good to get beaten around a bit."

Samuel just shook his head. "He's been beaten around," he said. "It doesn't change anything; it just puts him in a worse mood later."

"Hey Sam," Landon's tone was bright, almost cheerful, given the situation.

"What?"

"I think we're clear for now!"

Samuel turned and scanned the street. Sure enough, the only Flood Form left standing was the Juggernaut, and Ezekiel was now running circles around it, dodging swipes by the huge limbs and looking for an opportunity to strike.

"Get the Warthog turned over!" The leading Spartan began issuing orders. "Then go get whatever weapons are in those pods!" He pointed to the end of the street, where Stephanie's pod had fallen with half-a-dozen others. "The sooner we leave here, the better!"

"Sounds like a plan to me!" With that, Landon turned and tended to the overturned vehicle.

"Samuel," Gael's voice was grim. "Demon's been giving me updates on the satellite uplinks. We've got heavy infrared movement just off the coast. We've dealt with a fair amount of their forces on the island, but there are still thousands more scattered around, and it looks like up to a million of them could be in this city when the Flood finally get their reinforcements."

"A million of them?" Samuel asked doubtfully. "For just the six of us?"

"Gravemind is taking no chances," the AI said. "Zulu Company is officially a threat, and his primary goal is going to be to eliminate that threat, regardless of the costs."

"It doesn't make sense," he protested. "He could have the same effect with only a hundred-thousand of them: flood the city with them and hunt us down."

"He doesn't want to fill the city, Sam," Gael said bleakly "he wants the whole island crawling with them. There won't even be a place to take off."

Samuel nodded, trying to let it sink in. The concept of a million enemies all cramped on the island – in the city, no less – was unfathomable. The Spartans wouldn't be able to move, much less fight. They'd be overwhelmed in less than two minutes, guaranteed. And without space to even try and evacuate the island…

"How long?" he asked.

"Given their current speed and the landing time?" the AI returned. "I'd say about twelve minutes."

"Twelve minutes?" he shouted. "Come on!" The brown-armored Spartan focused on Blaine. "Make our preparations! I want us off this island in less than twelve minutes!"

"Good luck with that," Blaine answered plainly. "We'll be lucky to be gone in fifteen."

"Less talking, more doing!" he shouted, clapping his hands for emphasis. Blaine nodded and began securing Jason in the back of the 'Hog.

"Sam!" This time it was Stephanie, talking loudly as she jumped down from the third story window she'd been thrown through several minutes before. "What's the plan?"

"We're to be off this island ASAP!" He answered. "That's the plan! Help Landon load up the weapons in those pods, then get in a 'Hog and let's go!"

She took only a second to process the orders before answering. "Consider it done!"

Finally, Samuel turned to his last problem: Ezekiel, who was still circling the Juggernaut.

"Zeke!" he shouted angrily. "You have six seconds to kill that thing, or I'm doing it myself!" With that, he brought the Spartan Laser up and put it on his shoulder, taking aim at the core of the Juggernaut.

Ezekiel let out a long sigh of irritation. "Fine!" he said.

Samuel began counting as the circles continued. "One…two…three…"

Zeke ran straight at the monster, activating his Energy Swords and actually going so far as to leap onto one of its giant limbs as the monster tried to impale him.

"Four…" By this time, Samuel had activated the weapon on his shoulder, and a red laser sight had appeared on the Pure Form.

Ezekiel jumped off the tentacle, leaping above the Juggernaut as another strike came from its second limb. At the last second, the black-armored barely managed to twist his body enough to dodge the swipe.

"Five…" The sight grew larger, glowing bright red as the Spartan Laser's charge neared its firing point.

Both Energy Swords suddenly died as Ezekiel threw his arms straight down, releasing a pair of Firebombs that he'd been concealing and letting them fall onto the monster's limbs, where they exploded and splashed burning liquid first on the tentacles and then its decomposing flesh.

Zeke flipped twice in the air before landing solidly on the ground behind the Juggernaut as it burned alive, finally falling face-down into the road as the flames finally consumed its entire body.

"You did say "six", right?" Zeke asked.

Samuel shook his head, ignoring him as he turned to the others. "You got everything?"

"We're all set, Sam!" Landon answered. "Let's get the Hell outta Dodge!"

"For once," Sam said, "I agree with you. Everyone, climb in a 'Hog and let's go!"

It was then that Zeke spoke up. "Two problems with that," he said.

Samuel honestly couldn't have been less surprised. "And what are those?" He asked, then added, "make it quick."

"Problem one," the other Spartan said, "is that there are still a couple of pods that fell in the city that we've yet to collect."

"He's right," Stephanie said abruptly. "And we only found weapons and Fury Tactical Nukes in the ones that landed with me. That leaves three more pods, in which there are more weapons, a pair of HAVOK's, and another trio of Tactical Nukes."

Zeke cocked his head. "You wanna give Gravemind any of that?"

"Fine," Samuel said, painfully aware of the time they were wasting. "We all pile into the 'Hogs, drive a block or two north and get the other pods, and then we grab the last one on the way out of town. Then we all take off. Sound good?"

"Sure does," the other Spartan answered, "except for the second problem." After that, he waited in silence. Samuel worked to maintain his composure.

"Which is…?" He asked with anger just below the surface.

"I'm not going with you." Zeke answered bluntly.

Samuel sighed. He'd known this was coming. "You have to come." He said.

"Why?"

Sam narrowed his eyes even though the other Spartan couldn't see them. "You know why," he challenged, his voice low.

To his surprise, Ezekiel backed down.

"Yeah," he admitted, shrugging, "I do." He paused. "Why not? I could use a change of scenery."

With that, he turned and began walking away.

"Hey! You said you were coming with us." Samuel said, puzzled.

Zeke sighed. "If you're so intent on having a sleepover," he said coldly, "then I need to get my stuff." As he finished, he turned around and began to sprint for a nearby alley, only to stop half-way and spin back toward Samuel. "And don't worry about those two pods north of here. I'll take care of it, and I'll meet you at the edge of the city." With that, he cloaked himself, and vanished into the darkness.

Samuel wasted no time. "Let's go," he said, climbing into the driver's seat of the LRV that Ezekiel had brought back. The passenger seat beside him was packed with weapons taken from the nearby pods, and Stephanie instinctively jumped on the LAAG.

"You want me with them?" Blaine asked, motioning to Landon and Jason.

Samuel nodded. "They don't have the LAAG, so I'd say you're the next best thing."

Blaine let out a short laugh. "Next best?" he asked. "I'll rip that gun off and beat those infected bastards to death with it."

* * *

"I thought you weren't going with them," Demon said, his voice full of scorn at Ezekiel's change of mind.

The Spartan simply shrugged. "Won't be much to stick around for when I'm done here," he said, exiting the alley and turning left. "Where did those pods land again?"

"Couple blocks from here," the AI answered. A second later, he added, "oh no. You're not really going to-"

"We're looking at a million of those freaks on this rock," he said. "That's a gift-basket, wrapped and tied with a bow. No way in Hell I'm letting that go to waste, not in this lifetime."

* * *

Landon steered carefully, watching everywhere around him for signs of a Flood Form lying in wait. The fact that Blaine was seated beside him made him feel quite a bit more secure, but the knowledge that Jason was incapacitated right behind him served to keep his thoughts somber and his eyes focused on the dark road ahead, lit only by the lights from his LRV and Samuel's in front of him.

"How far out is the extraction point?" Landon asked.

"It's toward the southern edge," Blaine answered plainly. "Be a six-minute drive, assuming we don't hit any…" he stopped as he searched for the right word, "obstacles."

Landon let out a sigh. "Right," he said, glancing back at Jason. A second later, Blaine punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"Watch the damn road," he snapped. "They're not gonna snatch him out of the back of the 'Hog, I promise you."

Landon nodded. He knew Blaine was right. He just couldn't help it. Jason was his best friend, family above and beyond anything the other Spartans could ever be. It wasn't that the others weren't close to him, just that Jason had so much more in common with him than anyone else. He understood the pains that came with biomechanical parts, the limitations and the mentality that a Spartan had to have with such limitations. He was a fellow pilot and driver, someone who could-

"Get outta you're head and watch the road." Blaine said harshly. Landon wondered how the white-armored soldier could possibly have known that he was so lost in thought when the reflective visor covered his face.

But, somehow, he did.

"He'll be fine," Blaine growled. "Let's just get outta here first, then we'll tend to him and-"

"Right turn up ahead," Samuel said, his voice echoing in Landon's head. He must have spoken to Blaine too, because he was instantly silent. "We'll have another couple of blocks to go, and then we'll be at the jungle. From there, it's a straight shot to our extraction point. Questions?"

"Nah," Landon said, "we're good, Sam."

"Great," he answered. "We'll have one stop to get that last pod. If it's one of the HAVOK Warheads, it gets put in the back of the Transport 'Hog with Jason. If not, it fits with us."

"Yes sir."

"That's all for now. I'll let you know when we're stopping." With that, the link was terminated.

"He's nervous, isn't he?" Landon asked.

"Very," Blaine answered. "I don't think he knows if calling you guys down here was best move, and he's worried that he's pulled you down into this Hellhole just to die with the rest of us."

"We wanted to come here," Landon answered, accelerating to keep up with the LRV in front of him.

"And he wanted you here," Blaine said. "But I've got a feeling it's not for the reasons that you or the Vice Admiral intended."

"He's been promoted," Landon said. "It's Admiral now."

"Yeah, 'cause that means shit to me." The other Spartan answered sarcastically.

"Sorry," Landon said. "It's a big deal upstairs."

"Landon," he said frankly, "I honestly don't give a damn. The fact of the matter is this: nothing out there," he pointed up to the sky, to space, "means anything down here. His rank, our ranks…they all mean shit. What matters down here is sheer will. You live, or you die. That's it." He paused, taking a deep breath. "That's all."

Landon shook his head, letting the words sink in. "That sucks," he said finally, letting out a short, bitter laugh. "It's hard to believe it all ended up this-"

"We're almost at the city's edge," Samuel said suddenly. "Eyes up. Gravemind's not just gonna let us leave without-" He paused abruptly. "Speak of the devil."

Landon squinted, looking farther ahead of the LRV in front of him, into the wall of trees that was growing closer-

They were waiting; hundreds of them, just standing in the trees, waiting. There were Combat Forms, waiting with what appeared to be small arms, Carriers waddling around in the darkness, and Pure Forms of all kinds hiding in the shadows.

"Looks like the party isn't over yet," Blaine said, gripping the hammer.

"Can we get through?" Landon asked. "If we stop, we're sacrificing major time, and Jason's exposed-"

"Drive."

Landon recognized the voice. "Will you stop with the ominous orders?" He growled.

"I'll meet you guys here in about fourteen seconds," Zeke said. "Just drive through. Stop for nothing."

"They'll catch us." Samuel interjected. "We can't outrun them in the woods. It's not a straight shot like on the streets."

The Spartan's answer was short. "You won't have to."

Landon heard Samuel sigh. "Fine," he said. "You better know what you're doing." With that, the LRV in front accelerated. "You heard him, Landon! Don't slow down!"

"If you say so," Landon said, gunning the engine and feeling the 'Hog accelerate to keep up. The Troop Transport must have been in slightly better shape, he reasoned, because by the time Samuel's LRV was a hundred-yards from the city's end, passing the last major structure on the road, they were traveling nearly side-by-side.

"Here we go!" Blaine shouted, bracing himself against the side of the LRV.

"Hang on!" Landon gripped the steering wheel hard enough that the metal threatened to snap, watching as the Flood in front of him grew closer and closer-

CRASH!

Glass shattered somewhere to the right, and Landon glanced upwards in time to see a Brute Chopper boosting from the fifth story of the building he'd just passed. Ezekiel was on top, crouched down until he was almost level with the top of the alien craft, which soared clean over the line of Flood at the rim of the jungle and landed thirty yards behind them.

"Showoff," Blaine growled.

* * *

As the Chopper landed, Ezekiel leaned hard to the left and slammed his right foot into the ground beside the vehicle, lifting the already-floating seat higher into the air and causing the entire craft to spin on its large, spiked wheel. When it had spun a full one-eighty, he let the seat fall backwards, facing the wall of Flood between him and his allies.

"Just drive straight through 'em," he said, focusing on the other Spartans. "I've got a nice little going-away-present for when we leave."

"Aren't those usually gifts for the people who are leaving?" Stephanie asked.

Zeke rolled his eyes. "Don't correct me," he said. "Just drive."

"I'm actually on the gun."

"You've been hanging around Landon too long," Zeke said, taking aim with the twin autocannons on the front of the Chopper.

"Now, you know," Demon started, but Ezekiel cut him off.

"Yes," he said, "I know: don't accidently light anything."

"Just checking," the AI said.

With that, Ezekiel opened fire with the autocannons, tearing through the ranks with their large rounds and creating an ever-widening hole for the Warthogs to move through.

Seconds later, Samuel's LRV sped through with Stephanie gunning everything in sight on the way. Landon was right behind them, accelerating even faster to avoid the Combat Forms that were trying to leap onto the vehicle from every direction, with only Blaine's hammer to keep them at bay.

Not that he needed much more.

"What's this plan of yours?" Samuel asked as his LRV flew by.

"Just keep going," Zeke said, watching Landon follow right behind the leading Spartan. "You'll see momentarily." Then he turned his own vehicle around and took off behind them, carefully eying the forest for the signal he'd planted earlier.

As he passed a trio of trees that had grown abnormally close together, Demon spoke up. "That was it." He said.

"Good to hear," the Spartan answered, grabbing a Plasma Grenade from his armor. He glanced over his shoulder. "Burn in Hell!"

He threw the explosive behind him, back onto the ground right next to the trees that he had drenched in pyrosene and half-a-dozen other flammable substances earlier in the day. The same material that coated them had also been dripping from every other surface within a three-hundred-meter radius.

BOOM!

In an instant, the forest behind him was ablaze, burning the grasses and smaller trees to ash in mere seconds. The larger plants took longer to burn, but once they did, they began to fall in every direction, catching more of the jungle in the already-spreading wildfire.

"That was your plan?" Stephanie was shouting in his helmet. "Catch the forest on fire? Are you insane? How is Miedema gonna land with the entire forest ablaze?"

"It won't spread to the southern edge, where you landed," Zeke said. "It'll just spread in this area, long enough to hold them at bay and-"

CRASH!

Something slammed into the side of his Chopper, sending the vehicle and himself rolling along the ground until he crashed into a tree and the alien craft followed right behind him, pinning him there.

"What the…Hell was…" He looked up to see one of the Juggernauts standing twenty meters away, waving its plasma-proof tentacles and stalking toward him. He started to push the Chopper, but felt a searing pain in his leg and realized that one of the many jagged edges on the alien vehicle had caught him in the leg and torn clean through his MJOLNIR armor. The damage wasn't permanent, and the bleeding wasn't serious, but it sure as Hell felt like it.

"Well," Demon said nonchalantly, "we're dead."

* * *

"Damn him!" Blaine roared, looking backwards out of the passenger seat at the blazing forest and the towering Juggernaut. "I knew he'd do something moronic!" He shook his head. "Damn him!"

"We gotta go back," Landon said, although the words were empty. He had no intentions of going back, not with Jason incapacitated behind him.

"Samuel!" Blaine shouted as the Warthogs slowed slightly to maneuver better in the thickening forest. "How much farther?"

"Not far," he answered. "We've got another mile, maybe."

Blaine made a snap decision. "Slow down," he growled.

"What?"

"Slow down!"

Landon slammed on the emergency brake and the Warthog slowed almost to a stop. A second later, Blaine Everson was already out and sprinting back the way they'd come.

"Blaine! Seriously, we gotta go!"

"Then go, damn it!" He yelled back. "I sure as Hell ain't stopping ya!"

He covered the distance back to Ezekiel and the Chopper in less than fifteen seconds, sprinting like a track runner toward the enormous Pure Form that seemed to be toying with the injured Spartan.

Normally, fighting one of the monstrosities was the last thing Blaine would ever want to try, but he knew that, if he had to fight a Juggernaut one-on-one, a forest full of cover and darkness was probably his best bet.

So he decided to take his chances.

"Hey! Freak! Why don't you turn your ugly face this way?" He brought the Rocket Launcher up to his shoulder and fired a blast into the monster's back, detonating and lighting up the forest for several seconds.

"It would even my losses here, for just his blood to spill," a deep, ominous voice suddenly echoed and reverberated inside Blaine's mind, and he immediately recognized it as Gravemind's. "But if death is your wish," the voice continued as the Juggernaut turned around to face him, "there's room in the grave for you still."

"Cute." Blaine growled, watching as the creature's tentacles reared back, lifting high into the air. The left one came first, swinging high and he ducked beneath it as it crashed into a nearby tree. Then the right limb came straight down, trying to impale him-

But it missed, stabbing a foot into the ground at his feet as he dodged backwards. Before the monster could pull it back, Blaine had already grabbed it in his hands, tightening his grip and then pulling for all he was worth. He yanked the Juggernaut off-balance, and as it stumbled and fell forward, he pulled a pair of Plasma Grenades from his armor and shoved them into its tentacle-filled maw.

"You fool!" Gravemind's voice was back again as Blaine moved quickly over to where Ezekiel was pinned against the tree. He moved the Chopper and watched out of the corner of his eye as the Juggernaut regained its balance and stood up-

_Go to Hell,_ Blaine thought, praying that the creature could hear just those thoughts. He grabbed one of the M6Gs from Zeke's armor and turned around-

BANG!

A single shot to the mouth was all it took to detonate the Plasma Grenades, which exploded in a blue blaze and sent gory bits of deteriorating flesh in all directions. A mere two seconds later, the bottom half of the Juggernaut – which was largely all that remained – simply fell to the ground, unmoving.

"Come on, Zeke," Blaine said, lifting the other Spartan's arm up and over his own shoulder so that he could help to support him. "On the bike," Blaine slid as far forward as he could, sitting essentially on the support frame while Ezekiel sat on the seat. He went to put his foot down and caught something hard-

"Those…are mine." Zeke said, and Blaine looked down to see a pair of what appeared to be cast-iron models of activated Energy Swords. "They're…lead." He clarified, as if he had somehow known what the other Spartan was thinking.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "You and your toys."

He revved the Chopper and felt it launch forward, speeding through the jungle as dozens of lights appeared on the western shore to his right. At first, Blaine wondered what they could be, but eventually recognized them as the lights mounted to Pelican dropships.

"Their reinforcements are here," he said bitterly, pushing the alien craft to accelerate faster. "We should be gone by now."

"Yes we should." Samuel's voice was both calm and stern as he answered from up ahead. "We've got the LAAG loaded onto the Phantom and we stopped to grab the other HAVOK. Just get the Chopper up here, hook it on, and let's go."

"No complaints on my end," Blaine muttered as his HUD finally showed four Zulu Company tags in the darkness ahead. As he got closer, he could see the Phantom, parked almost at the edge of the island, hidden from view on almost every side by a combination of rocky outcrops and thick, vine-ridden trees.

He pulled up underneath the Covenant dropship and jumped off, hooking the front and back to the bottom with the improvised clamps that Samuel had left for him. Before he'd even finished, Ezekiel was off the craft and, with help from Stephanie, limped into the dropship.

The white-armored Spartan let out a long sigh after he'd finished double-checking the clamps and quickly leapt into the ship, closing the door behind him and allowing the cloaking technology to take its full effect as Miedema began to lift the craft up and out of the jungle.

"We made it!" Landon said, looking at a now-conscious Jason, who was sitting propped up against one wall. The injured Spartan was coughing but, otherwise, he appeared to be doing better.

"Yes we did," Samuel said, turning to the front of the Phantom. "Thanks Joel. We'd have never gotten out of there without you."

"Sam," Miedema answered with a laugh, "you guys just went straight to the depths of Hell, and you're thanking me? Come on."

"All the same," Samuel said with a nod, "thanks."

"Anytime, sir," Miedema answered. "We'll be home here soon, just after I circle us a couple of times and-"

"Get away from the island." Zeke managed, growling in pain at the end of the statement as he worked to stand.

"What?" Joel asked. "Why?"

Zeke let out a long, cold laugh. "Because, whether or not anyone thought about it, I did find the second HAVOK."

"You did?"

Joel didn't wait for an answer. "Consider us far, far away from the island." He said, and Blaine felt the Phantom turn hard to the left.

"How long 'til it blows?" Samuel asked.

Zeke took his helmet off, laying it down on the floor beside him. "About thirty seconds," he said, leaning his head against the wall of the craft and closing his eyes.

Blaine walked up to the front, where Miedema was, and looked at the rear-view camera that they had mounted to the craft. It showed Mahé in the distance, along with its crumbled capitol and its burning jungle. There were hundreds of dropships and smaller crafts flying around and above it, scouting for the Spartans that were no longer there.

And they'd keep scouting, keep searching, until-

BOOM!

Zeke's thirty-seconds ran out, and a single HAVOK Warhead detonated in the island's capitol, swallowing the entire city and every inch of the surrounding area in a sphere of nuclear destruction. Overpressure washed over the Phantom even at its distance and Blaine's view of the island was lost as the camera began to malfunction, showing only static, and eventually shut down completely.

"Turn us around," he said, looking to Miedema as he took his helmet off. The former-spook complied without a word, and Blaine looked through the front of the Phantom at the island.

Or, at least, what was left of it.

None of the lights that represented the dropships were there. Flames still licked at the forest's edges, and a few crafts could be seen in the distance around the island, crafts that had barely escaped the blast.

And with that blast, with that one warhead, an estimated million Combat, Carrier, and Pure Forms were destroyed, gone forever in a single flash of light that took with it a city that had once been proud and prosperous.

In a moment, it was all gone.

Blaine Everson had hardened in recent months, like they all had. He'd been forced to. But this was something that he still had yet to get accustomed to: the idea that, to win this war, they would have to be willing to burn the world that they had dedicated their lives to protecting.

To destroy the Flood, they would have to destroy everything they had ever worked for.

Blaine glanced at the team sitting around behind him and allowed himself a brief smile as he took a final look at the ruined island. _And destroy you we will._

**Author's Notes: Well, that's it for this one. I'm at work on Chapter 7 now, and I would like to give everyone a very important announcement:**

**If you were wondering what happened to Victoria while she was with ONI, if you had questions about their procedues...they will be answered next chapter! Finally, I will make good on all my claims, lol. So, yeah...be sure to read, as this will affect the rest of the story and Zulu Company in irreversible ways.**

**Thanks all! I look forward to hearing from you!**

**- Raptor**

* * *


	8. Chapter 7: A Second Chance

**Author's Notes: Yep. It's that time again. Once every couple of weeks, right? And, in my defense...this one's late 'cause I couldn't find a proofreader for a few days (granted, I'm too stubborn to track them down and ask half the time, so we're gonna call this one my bad). Anyways, it's here and it's set to go. This one had to be redone a few times, and it's somehow still not perfect. Still, I got a few different opinions, including Gormanuyai's, to work out what kinks I could (he's very good for that). That all being said, there's a LOT of character stuff here. No fighting, sorry. Soon, lol.**

**That being said, I'll do reviews and we can get going here.**

**REVIEWS:**

**The Not-So Addict: Hey, first up this round! And, to answer your question right off the bat: YES, in some ways, he does. You're gonna find throughout this that Zeke's not exactly emotionally practiced enough to handle a lot of what goes on with any semblence of normalcy. He's essentially always on edge, and it shows in the extremes of his personality. It'll progressively get "easier" for him, but never back to where he's fully comfortable. Secondly, the time-estimate on the Phantoms and on the Flood's reinforcements were just that: guesses. There are going to be a few times in this book where the AI's aren't quite as reliable as they once were. They no longer have a big, cooperating system of satellites and uplinks allowing them to draw information from a myriad of sources. Instead, they get an image here, a clip there, and take their best guess. The Flood clearly arrived later than expected, lucky for them.  
As for Zeke's fight with the Juggernaut: it's very much what you said. He's stubborn. Add to that the fact that he knows nothing about the tentacles (trying to cut them with plasma, for example), and you've got a nice challenge the first time around. Clearly, he's better-suited to take them on than some others (Landon, for example, would have quite a time of it, simply because his augmentations were defensive in nature), as he simply dodged around and dropped a pair of Firebombs on it without really working too hard. It's just a matter of him actually looking at the situation and accepting that his normal methods won't work.  
Magnus and Nova...well, you'll see. Both will make appearances. And as for your last question: Vic...well, now. ;)  
Thanks very much!**

**Drake Hellion: Thank you! I appreciate the compliments, and I'll pass the second one on to Zeke. ;) lol. Hope you like the future fights as much as that one.**

**killerman83ca: As always, I appreciate the kind words and support. Hopefully, there will never come a time when I need a vast amount of help, but we can only wait and see (some would argue that I need it now). As for the Chopper: no worries. It's not finished yet. And the Elites...they will not play a major part in this book, but they're far from finished in the story of Zulu Company. Thanks!**

**ching 965: Hey! Yeah, the Juggernaut kind of "resets" the balance upon appearance. You have no choice, really. Sure, you can stand there and bicker amongst yourselves, but you'll likely be skewered before the debate finishes, so it's probably not the best move. As for your comment on the Chopper: you are essentially dead-on. In a lot of ways, his entrances and the like are completely intentional. Always have been. Other times, however, he does what he does without considering it or thinking it through, and it simply comes off that way. And to end, in regards to Gravemind: just have to wait and see. lol. Thanks very much for reviewing!**

**Eternity of Night: Ah, no problem. Good to have you back! And what you might call "awesomer", I think some others might have a different label for. Really, it's yet to be seen if his changes will amount to good or bad for the team as a whole. In the meantime, enjoy! Thanks!**

**Mhop12: Oh, no, I understand completely. We've had bad breakouts here on campus. It's terrible. Glad you're feeling better though (I assume, since you're reviewing, lol). And I DO know Zombie Emergency Procedure, but, technically, the Flood are not zombies. ;) lol, thanks a lot!**

**FireWolfFred: Yeah, Jason's alive for the moment. He's still out-of-commission though, so really Gravemind's goals are served. And, to answer your question: I'll go into more detail about the weapons next chapter, but, for all intents and purposes: he has two Energy Swords (just like the in-game ones), but the device responsible for generating the plasma and encasing it in a magnetic field is actually implanted now, so that he's not forced to carry two swords around, and it doesn't run on a "battery" like swords do. That clear it up a bit?**

**1 way ticket: lol, I WAS back in my groove. Then this chapter ruined it for me. *sigh* Anyways, yeah, Zeke needs a good beating. Seems like that's a common trend though, one we've been seeing since about the 4th chapter of The Last Stand. hehe. And we talked about Blaine...he's not being jealous, he's just not terribly thrilled with his teammate's behavior, lol. Thanks Cutie! Talk to you soon. :)**

**Gormanuyai: Yeah, we both know, don't we? Too bad for this chapter, right? Oh well. I promise, it's uphill from here. ;) Thanks for all your help. **

**Ildina Dusklea: lol, maybe. We'll just have to see. Only time will tell. And, to answer your question: I don't think so...lol. I checked it immediately after reading your review, just in case I screwed up (as they ARE supposed to be a mix of lead and titanium), but it was listed as such in Zeke's chapter too, so I don't know. Perhaps it got edited shortly after posting and I'm forgetting; it's quite possible. I can't count the number of edits I've done, much less list them, lol. Thanks for reviewing for me!**

**xcavars: lol, I was never a huge fan of them in the game. Still, Zeke uses them, and they work okay for him. Admittedly, they're not heavy-hitting weapons, but they're small and easy to conceal, which is far more important in some aspects. Though...Blaine will never use them. He'll sooner break them and throw the pieces at whatever's nearby. What can I say? He detests all things tiny, lol. Thanks!**

**Barca: Hey, it's good to hear from you! And don't worry about the reviewing...honestly, I can't quite complain when I have five weeks in between chapters. Seriously. As for this book: well, I don't know yet if it'll be as good as The Last Stand (I do HOPE so). You're right though: in a lot of ways, fights are done in such a way as to be engaging and - admittedly, in some cases - overdone. But, I prefer to err on that side than to have them be boring or understated. Hopefully I'll find a balance...but, well, hasn't happened just yet, lol.  
It's funny to me that you presented the fight between Zeke and Landon and stated that Zeke "needs someone to be at odds with." Because it's entirely true! And, what you'll find throughout the book is that Landon CANNOT fill that gap, and he'll have numerous people to be at odds with. I was pleasantly surprised that you drew attention to it so early on. Just had to note that, lol.  
Finally, you will see some development on other characters, though mostly Miedema. Very little of the book will take place in space with the Admiral from here on out (some, just not much), so it's kind of a one-way process. That being said, the Admiral will make a major jump in importance toward the end of this book and into the next one. So rest assured: I will get there.  
Thanks very much for your review!**

**Samus 117: lol, no worries! I'm just glad you liked the chapter previous, and I hope that you can sit through the next couple without too much intense fighting. Promise, I'll get back to normal, lol. Oh, and you're right: secrets will be known. Thanks a lot for reviewing!**

**ALRIGHT! That's it. With that, I begin the chapter containing information that has been demanded from me since before The Last Stand was completed. What happened to Victoria at ONI? What is Samuel's newest plan? How and where do the paths cross?**

**All good questions...and all about to be answered. Enjoy. ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

– **A Second Chance –**

**0900 Hours - July 15, 2553**

**Silhouette Island - Sychelles Islands, East Of Africa**

"Hey man, how you feelin'?" Landon was careful to keep his voice neutral, to keep too much emotion from inching its way into his tone.

Jason coughed loudly, then settled back onto his pillow. "Better," he managed, closing his eyes. "She's good."

He was referring to Jackie Hamilton, the ex-ODST that had proven herself to be a quite-capable medic when the need for one had arrived. She'd removed the round from Jason's chest, stitched up his wounds, and even done a decent patch-job on the mess the Infection Form had made of his organ system.

"Yeah," Landon said with a nod. "She's good." It was all he could think to say, looking down at his best friend who – according to said medic – had about a fifty-five-percent chance of survival on Earth. If he could be brought to the _Atonement_, where they had proper medical equipment and quality surgical personnel, his survival would be all but guaranteed.

But Samuel hadn't given any indication of when they would be extracted yet. They'd been on the Prowler for two days, and their departure could be in a week, a month, or later that afternoon, for all Landon knew.

"You should go." Jason managed, coughing again. "Find out…what the plan is."

Landon shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "They'll come get me when-" He stopped, hearing the door slide open.

"Hey." It was Blaine.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Meeting's started," the other Spartan answered, motioning to the large open entrance to the Prowler, just outside Jason's room.

Landon turned to face the Spartan on the makeshift hospital bed. "I'll be back in a bit."

"No rush," Jason managed.

With that, he turned and followed Blaine out of the room, into the open interior of the Prowler, where the rest of the team was already waiting. Samuel was standing at the ship's exit, and he seemed more than a little nervous. Stephanie was only a couple of feet from him, waiting patiently. Ezekiel was braced against the far wall with his head tilted down and his eyes closed. His arms were crossed at his chest, as usual.

"Okay," Samuel stepped forward and began immediately. "To start, I want everyone to know that this is all unofficial. It's just me letting you all in on what's going on. Okay?"

Blaine promptly sat down, cross-legged, on the floor, relaxing with his back against the wall.

"Glad to see you can remember what "unofficial" means," Samuel laughed.

"Unofficial?" Blaine asked. "This is whenever, wherever." He flashed a brief smile, then leaned his head back against he wall, waiting on Samuel to continue.

And, after a second's pause, he did.

"As I'm sure you've all guessed, I've come up with a plan to combat the Flood and to try and put an end to this whole mess. However, as I've been informed, our actual orders are to get in contact with the _Atonement_ and set up an extraction point." He paused. "Because of this, I can't order you to help me. Rank means nothing. If I want your help, I have to get down from my post and ask for it."

Landon swallowed hard. He knew what Samuel was about to ask for, and he also knew exactly what it meant for Jason.

It meant that he wouldn't be getting the medical care from the _Atonement_ that he very much needed to improve his chances of survival.

"This is me doing exactly that," Samuel continued. "I'm asking you to help me to put an end to this war. After what the Flood did here, I can't just leave. I can't retreat, not now, not after all this. We have a chance to take the fight to Gravemind on his own ground, and put that blood-sucking Parasite in his place once and for all."

"You looking for a decision, Sam?" Zeke asked, not moving or even opening his eyes.

"No," the other Spartan answered. "Not yet I'm not. Everyone has today to think it over. I'll call another meeting this evening, and we can decide as a group what we're doing." He sighed loudly. "The other thing I have to mention is that this is an all-or-nothing vote. I need everyone for this to work, so if anyone doesn't feel compelled to help me – which, if that's the case, I can understand – we all get out of here as soon as possible. Any questions?"

No one spoke.

"Alright," he finished. "Think it over. The way I see it, this is our big second chance. We couldn't stop the Flood from taking Earth, but maybe we can do something to stop them from leaving it." He sighed. "That's all guys."

With that, the room split up once more. Blaine promptly walked into the Prowler's excuse for a kitchen while Ezekiel stalked over to the ship's exit and simply walked out, unarmored and without a supply of safe oxygen. Landon was shocked that Sam just watched him leave, but remembered quickly that the genetically-engineered soldier had never been known for following those kinds of rules.

When Stephanie started talking to Samuel, Landon considered joining in and asking him questions about this new mission…

But he decided against it, and went back to Jason's room.

"How was it?" he asked immediately.

Landon shrugged. "Just a meeting," he said. "Nothing special."

"What…" he coughed loudly, then cleared his throat before speaking again. "What about?"

"Just our fearless leader," Landon joked, "him and-"

"Landon."

It was Samuel.

Landon turned around to see the enormous soldier standing, hunched slightly in the doorway to avoid hitting his head.

"Yeah, Sam?" he asked.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Landon glanced at Jason, who waved him away with one hand. A second later, he followed Samuel out the door, closing it behind him.

"So you haven't talked to anyone on the _Atonement_ yet?" Landon asked, trying to keep all semblances of accusation out of his voice.

"Not yet," Samuel answered. He motioned to the door to Jason's room. "How is he?"

Landon shook his head. "Could be worse," he said lightly. Then he added, "could be better."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Sam answered. Then he changed the subject. "When I call everyone back this evening, I need to know if you'll help me."

"Jason needs help, Sam." Landon argued, refusing to be drawn away from the one thing truly pressing on his mind. "He might not make it down here."

"What did Jackie say?"

"Fifty-five-percent," Landon answered, "assuming there are no infections or negative reactions to the drugs."

"His chances aren't bad-"

"They'd be better up there."

Samuel seemed hesitant to continue. "I've got a plan." He said finally. "It's a big one, but if we can pull it off, we can eliminate the Flood for good, and we can save everyone else. We can save humanity and the rest of the galaxy from suffering the same fate that Earth has. The problem is…I need everyone to make it work." He paused. "I need your help."

"We don't know if he'll recover or not." Landon protested. "He needs someone here in case-"

Sam raised his hand. "I know. And like I said: I can't pull rank and order you to help me. I just have to know who is with me, and who isn't."

Landon nodded. "I understand." He took a deep breath, then added with the least-challenging tone that he could manage, "but you should know: I'm not. I can't."

Sam's demeanor didn't change. "This is our only chance to try this." He said. "We won't get another opportunity like this one."

"He needs real medical attention, Sam." Landon reasoned, glancing at the closed door to the injured Spartan's room. "He can't get that here, but he can get it aboard the _Atonement_."

Samuel shook his head, but otherwise remained completely still. "So that's your decision, then? You won't help me?"

"I'm sorry, Sam. Really, I am."

* * *

Ezekiel sighed loudly, watching the sun through the ever-shifting cloud cover that had a less-sickly look to it than was custom. It was the first time he'd been able to relax since they'd arrived, and he found that the clouds were lighter, brighter, and much thinner than he was accustomed to since the Flood took over.

It was a new day.

"Well," he said aloud, though to no one in particular as he looked up at the sky, "now what?"

The HAVOK Nuclear Warhead had turned his home-away-from-home into a radioactive crater, and he sure as Hell couldn't stay here on Silhouette, with the rest of the Spartans. Half of them wanted to return to the _Atonement_, which wasn't even an option for Ezekiel at this point. The other half, he knew, would side with Samuel and whatever plan he had to take the fight to the Flood.

And that too, was completely out of the question.

It wasn't that he didn't want to wage war with the Parasite; Ezekiel just wanted to do it on his own terms. He had no suicidal desire to go about and try to attack major cities filled with them, or to sabotage their efforts to leave the Earth, or even to find Gravemind.

He just wanted to kill each and every one of them that got within his reach, to slash through Gravemind's ranks with a white-hot blade and tear his undead army to ribbons. That was his goal, sad as it was: kill what he could, and when it was over, take as many of them with him as humanly-

His thoughts stopped suddenly, interrupted by a familiar scent and the sound of heavy footsteps. Ezekiel smirked.

"You shouldn't be out here without your helmet." Samuel said lightly, fully armored and speaking through his visor.

Zeke rolled his eyes. "Why?" He asked with a grin. "You worried I'll get infected?"

"Aren't you?"

He laughed coldly. "Should I be?"

Samuel sighed, and then abruptly changed the subject. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Come to chew me out about my new toys?" he asked, lifting his arms up and examining his wrists and his hands, as if any evidence of the surgery could be found on them.

"Maybe tomorrow," Samuel said plainly. "This is about-"

"Your plan?" Zeke finished for him, cocking an eyebrow.

"How'd you know that I had one, back on Mahé'?"

Again, Ezekiel rolled his eyes. "It's you, Sam. When have you ever not had a plan?" He paused. "Besides, you didn't honestly expect me to believe that you'd bite on this whole "extraction" idea, did you?"

Samuel shook his head. "No, I guess I didn't. Before we talk about that, though, I need to talk to you about Jason."

At this, Zeke scowled. "We've been over this."

"You broke protocol." Sam said sternly. "You shot at a member of our team-"

"He was infected!" Zeke's voice subconsciously rose at the statement.

"We didn't know that for sure!" Samuel's voice rose to match his own.

"You didn't, but I sure as Hell did!"

"It's not just up to you-"

Ezekiel cut him off. "I did what had to be done, Sam!"

"That wasn't your call to make-"

"You're damn right!" Now Zeke found himself shouting, suddenly furious as images from the Assault Carrier played in his mind, images where he'd done what he had to, and hated himself for it. "It was Landon's!" He paused, collecting himself and forcing the thoughts to the back of his mind. "And next time, I'll let him put a bullet in the person closest to him in this world!"

Surprisingly, Samuel said nothing. He just stood there and let Ezekiel continue, a concerned look on his face.

And, against his better judgment, he did, working to keep the pain of his memories from crawling into his voice. Instead, all that anyone listening would detect was pure, unrestrained anger. "Next time, I'll let him take the life of the person most like him, the person who understands him best, and I'll let you pick up the pieces!"

In a flash, a fraction of a second, Samuel's tone changed until it was almost as angry as Zeke's. "I'm already picking up the pieces!" He shouted. "What do you think we've all been doing since we got back from the Assault Carrier?"

"Don't turn this on me," Zeke growled. "I've lived out there without any of you for weeks now, and I've proven that I don't need your help-"

"That makes you a fool," Sam answered, and Ezekiel found himself shaken by the personal insult; not the words themselves, but the fact that they came from Samuel. "It doesn't make you a greater warrior than anybody else." He paused, apparently collecting himself as well.

But Zeke had had enough. "I don't need this, not from you or anyone else." He turned and began walking away.

"I'm not done yet."

"But I am!" He snapped. "And your rank doesn't mean a damn thing down here, so back off!"

"Listen to me," Samuel said, his voice suddenly level and calm, as it normally was. For some inexplicable reason, Ezekiel's instinct told him to stay, to listen.

And he did.

"What?" His voice was flat, void of any of the emotion that had been so obvious only seconds before.

"I don't agree with what you did, but I don't question that it might very well have been the best move. Jason was under the Flood's control, and we all thought so, even if we couldn't force ourselves to believe it. What you did could have been our best option."

"Don't patronize me, Sam." Zeke growled. "I have reasons for everything that I do, but you have no way of knowing what they are. As far as you know, I'm a team-killing psycho with a major superiority complex."

Surprisingly, Samuel laughed at the comment. Then – out of nowhere – he took off his helmet, holding loosely at his side and looking Ezekiel straight in the eye.

"You, like everyone else, looked at the situation as it was and made a decision. Do I approve of how it was handled? No, not at all." He paused. "But, in the end, we'd be hard-pressed for it to have ended better, given the circumstances, so I can excuse it as something that you at least reasoned out in your head first."

"He was infected, Samuel. That's all there was too it. No reasoning, no thinking. Just doing."

"And you were sure about that?" Samuel paused, clarifying. "At that moment, you knew with absolute certainty that we weren't looking at Jason?"

"I was a-hundred-percent sure, Sam." Zeke shook his head, scoffing first, then sighing loudly. "Do you honestly think there's a chance that I'd have pulled that trigger if I wasn't? After what happened on the Assault Carrier…" He glanced up at the sky, letting the words go.

Samuel's expression changed at the mention of the Assault Carrier, but he recovered quickly and smiled. "No," he said, "I don't. And that's why I believe it was the best move."

At this, Ezekiel understood what the leading Spartan was saying: he didn't agree with his actions. And, in truth, Zeke couldn't blame him for that. He was in charge, and Zeke had made a snap-decision on his own terms that disagreed with everything they were ever taught and undermined his authority on the battlefield.

But, at the same time, Samuel did agree that his decision could conceivably have been the best one. Despite that, he had to say something, to ensure that Ezekiel had reasoned it out, to ensure that it wasn't just a random fluke and that – next time – it wouldn't happen unless there was no other way.

"Gravemind wouldn't have let him live." Zeke started calmly, suddenly feeling as though he had no choice but to explain himself. "He only sent Jason in to get to Landon."

Samuel nodded. "I know."

"There were only a few ways that that situation was going to end," Zeke said, replaying the same thoughts he'd had in his head before he'd pulled the trigger, the thoughts that had led him to make the decision that he did. "The first, and most likely one, is that Jason would have taken the Shotgun from Landon and killed him with it."

"Which is what Gravemind intended," Samuel said. "He wanted to eliminate as many Spartans as he could, and sending Jason was the best way to do it."

Ezekiel nodded. "Yeah, but that wasn't the extent of it. We both know what would've happened if Landon had been able to force himself to pull the trigger."

"He'd never forgive himself." Sam said, closing his eyes. "He'd blame the whole event on his own actions, on his leaving Jason behind, and no one else, not even Gravemind or the Flood."

"And he'd never be able to fight again." Zeke added.

"An alternative I'm sure Gravemind would have been willing to live with," Samuel finished.

"Oh, I'm sure he'd have been thrilled with it." Ezekiel couldn't keep the contempt from his voice. Gravemind would probably have preferred putting Landon through immense emotional pain and suffering rather than just killing him.

Or was that something that only Zeke could claim?

He forced the question to the back of his mind. "Regardless, the only other way that yesterday could have played out is if you ordered one of us to shoot Jason."

"Which I almost did," Sam admitted.

"Yeah," Zeke said, "and we both know how Landon feels toward me right now. Imagine that same resentment, only toward you. He wouldn't listen to a word you said, and whatever insane plan you have spinning around in your head would be worthless."

Samuel sighed. "It already is." He said solemnly. "Landon wants no part of it."

"He wants Jason taken to the _Atonement_?" Zeke asked, though he already knew the answer.

Sam nodded. "He just wants to see him taken care of. I can't blame him for that." After that, he paused for several seconds before speaking again. "I need you to say yes."

Ezekiel narrowed his eyes. "No."

"Zeke, I need everyone to make this work, and-"

"And if I say yes, then everyone has to do the same, because no one will be the guy who refused when even the arrogant, self-absorbed bastard agreed."

Samuel shook his head. "It's not about that." He said. "I need your help to make it work, just like I need Blaine and Stephanie and Landon for their individual skills. I need everyone."

"Answer's still no."

Sam looked at him calmly, taking a deep breath, and Ezekiel knew that he was trying to think of just how to approach the situation to get the best result. Finally, he said, "you've changed. Over the last few months, you've changed drastically."

Ezekiel grinned. "I got smart."

Without missing a beat, Samuel answered. "You got scared."

"Excuse me?"

"You got scared." Sam repeated. "You lived alone on Mahé and…what? Killed a few thousand of them? That's not even a goal, Zeke. It's nothing like you."

"I've killed quite a few more of them than you have." He answered bitterly.

"And for what?" Sam asked, undeterred. "To what end?" He paused. "Even the million that we just wiped out yesterday…what for? What purpose did it serve? Is Gravemind any less capable of killing every living being in the galaxy for it?"

For once, Ezekiel found that he had nothing to say. At the end of the day, Sam was right: it was pathetic and painfully depressing, but their actions had amounted to nothing.

"Like I said," he repeated for a third time, "you got scared."

"Gravemind doesn't scare me." Zeke growled. "He's not nearly as-"

"I didn't say that you were scared of the Flood." Samuel clarified. "I just said that you were scared."

"Of what?" Zeke quizzed.

Now it was Sam's turn to grin. "You tell me."

"Sorry, Sam," he answered, unable to keep a ghost of a smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I play mind-games with the rest of you, not the other way around."

"That's fine." Samuel answered, shrugging. "Now, moving on…are you gonna help me, or not? This is going to be a team-effort. It's going to-"

"What will be?" Zeke asked, his mood improved slightly. "What is this mysterious plan that you're so determined to get me to agree to?"

The other Spartan's demeanor lightened considerably. "What do you remember about Los Angeles?"

* * *

"What did Samuel have to say?" Jason asked, turning his head to face Landon as Jackie left the room. His words were quiet, painful.

"Nothing," Landon lied. "Just talking about the situation."

"It's not polite," Jason started, then began coughing again, "to lie to a dying man."

"You're not dying!" Landon answered harshly. "Don't even joke about that shit."

"Then tell me what he said." His words were all but a whisper.

Landon took a deep breath. "He has some kind of plan. He wants…he wants to fight the Flood, somehow."

"Sounds…like Sam."

"But we can't." Landon added quickly. "I told him that we have to get you back to the _Atonement_, so that you can get-"

Landon was suddenly cut off as Jason's right hand shot from his side and gripped his shirt collar, pulling him downward.

"You listen to me." Jason growled lowly. "You're not in charge."

"I know-"

Jason's grip tightened. "No!" He said forcefully. "Just because he can't pull rank…" He coughed painfully, and his words trailed off. "Don't be such a girl."

"I'm not being a girl." Landon argued. He knew too well what would happen if he lost this particular debate: Jason wouldn't be going anywhere. "I'm just not willing to risk your life on a plan-"

"Not your call!" Jason yelled as loudly as he had since they'd landed, his voice suddenly piercing and angry. "I shouldn't even be alive. The Flood took me, and you made it to the others. It was…what I intended." He paused, recovering his breath. "I'm only alive 'cause of Zeke."

Landon's eyes widened upon hearing Jason's view of the subject. "He shot you." He said, dumbfounded.

His answer was simple. "Someone had to."

Landon shrugged. "Guess you're right," he said, realizing the truth in the statement. Then he remembered the debate at hand. "But it's still not a risk worth taking."

"You'd have the galaxy burn over my life?" he asked. "You need to get your priorities straight."

"The UNSC already has plans to fight the Flood without us," Landon reasoned. "And they'll do it from space. There's no reason to do it ourselves when we'll almost certainly die and-"

"Quit acting…like you care about your life." Jason growled. "We put our lives on the line dozens of times. And we did it without a prayer, or a second thought."

"Fine," Landon snapped, standing up fully. "You're right, okay? I don't give a damn if we die out there."

"Then why?"

Finally, he snapped. "Because you weren't suppose to push me outta the God-damned window!" Landon yelled. "I'd have gladly fought them with you – to the death if that's what was coming for us."

Jason smiled. "So that's what this is about."

"It's not just that." Landon clarified, finding the smile horribly irritating. "What are you grinning at?"

"Your dedication is appreciated," Jason answered. "But you have to go. I made a choice. I'll live with it."

"Or die with it?"

Jason shrugged as best he could lying down. "I put your life first because it was an even trade. Your life. Or mine. Or both." He sighed. "You don't have that luxury. The trade isn't the same."

Landon's eyes widened as he considered the other Spartan's words. In some ways, they were true. Jason had been willing to give everything to save Landon's life-

Didn't that mean he was required to do the same?

"The UNSC," he pleaded once more. "They've already got plans in motion to come and finish this, as soon as their ships are up to snuff. We don't need to-"

"It's Sam's call," the other Spartan said finally, ending the debate. "You know that."

Landon looked at the ceiling, nodding slightly. Jason was right: he did know that. He'd known it the whole time.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah it is."

"So go." Jason said quietly. "I'll be fine, or I won't."

"Jason-"

"Look at the bright side," Jason managed. "If I finally keel over, then you won't be lying when you tell everyone you're the pilot on this team."

* * *

"It's a deathtrap." Ezekiel answered grimly. "Infrared images show constant security routines, tens-of-thousands of Flood Forms, and a ton of satellite surveillance."

Samuel's smile faded slightly. "Why so many, you think?"

"They're building." Zeke said confidently. "According to Demon's best analyses, they're probably busy getting ships ready to go into space."

Gael had given Samuel a similar estimate as to what L.A. would be like now that the Flood had taken over. "Anything else?"

"Judging by the infrared readings, along with a couple of standard images that he was able to get a hold of, Demon thinks that whatever they're working on will be ready within another week or so."

This, however, was new information. "How does he know that?"

Zeke shrugged. "Call it an AI's best hunch." He paused. "Along with that, he's stolen images from all over the globe, both infrared and standard. According to those, the Flood have at least five ships that they're trying to get finished, with the one in L.A. being the closest to completion."

"Well," Sam said, "then we'll just have to take care of that while we're there."

"Why Los Angeles?" Zeke asked, much to Samuel's surprise.

"I assumed you'd guessed already."

Ezekiel shook his head.

"Zeke," he said, deadly serious, "I want to use the NOVA Warheads that are stored underneath the facility we visited."

"Can't," the other Spartan said dismissively with a wave of his hand for emphasis. "The Flood have already found them."

At this statement, Samuel's eyes widened and his heart rate quickened. Did Zeke know something else that he didn't? "What are you talking about?"

"The Flood know that they're down there." Zeke said the words as if the leading Spartan's question had been completely idiotic. "You know that."

"No," Samuel said, defending his position. "Gael and I checked the logs. There were three-hundred and twenty-six scientists working in that facility. One-hundred-sixty-six of them died in the attack by the Brutes. Of those that remained, fifty-four evacuated Earth right after the attack, and the rest – all of them – were evacuated before the Flood arrived."

Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. "And the UNSC personnel that knew about it?"

"Forty individuals," Samuel said, reciting the numbers that he and Gael had gone over again and again. "All of them accounted for and none of them taken by the Flood."

"Forty one," Zeke snapped, his voice cold. "You're forgetting about Victoria."

Samuel felt his heart beat faster at the mention of her name. He knew that he had explaining to do…it was just so hard to find the right time, to find a moment where he could bring it up without Ezekiel going off the deep end. In truth, he'd meant to talk about it dozens of times, to try to heal the scars that were still present so long after the events on the Assault Carrier.

But he hadn't.

"Yeah," he said cautiously, "that's something else I need to talk to you about."

Ezekiel scowled. "I don't want to talk about her, Sam. I was making a point. That's not a reason to-"

"There is a reason." Sam interrupted. "I know I should have told you before, but I just couldn't force myself to do it. I wanted to be able to give you good news, to be able to give you more information before I-"

"Samuel, what the Hell are you rambling about?" Zeke's tone was a mix of anxiousness and irritability, and Sam couldn't blame him. It was a rough subject, one that should have been addressed a long time ago.

"You didn't kill her, Zeke." He said finally, deciding to spell it out as best he could. "You didn't kill Vic."

Ezekiel growled lowly, turning away. "I've heard this speech before." He said angrily. "I'd rather not-"

"No you haven't." Samuel protested, forcing himself to go on. He'd come this far, and he knew that if he didn't finish it now, chances were high that he never would. "Do you remember when you told me about the fight you had with her, when she was infected?"

Zeke turned around to face him, his features stone cold. "Yeah," he said bitterly. "I remember."

"You told me that something was off, that you couldn't quite place it, but that there was something about the entire ordeal that didn't fit."

"Yes, for God's sake, Sam, I remember!" Zeke had crossed that emotional line, and Samuel knew it: he was furious, and there was no turning back.

To the brown-armored soldier's surprise, that somehow made it easier for him to continue.

"I know what it was." Samuel said. "It was your augmentations and – by association – hers. Along with that, it was Demon's knowledge of the Flood-"

"Samuel," Zeke's voice was as angry as the other Spartan had ever heard it. "If you have something to say, then come out with it."

Normally, in the already-irritable mood that Samuel was in, such a comment would have quite possibly put him over the edge, but – for this one conversation – Sam could excuse all of it.

He continued, "One of your augmentations replaced the majority of your skeletal structure with titanium rods that would allow for increased movement and durability. They replaced better than eighty-percent of the calcium in your body."

The look Ezekiel's face suddenly changed completely. It was no longer the cold, dark glare of a hardened soldier. In an instant, Ezekiel Veron's features were completely different. His eyes were wide, his complexion paled, and his mouth hung very slightly open as he became lost inside his own head.

More than anything else, he looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Calcium," he said, staring into space. "Infection Forms feed on the calcium of their hosts."

"That's right."

"Without it they…"

"They die." Samuel finished quietly.

"How did it survive?" he asked, his expression dumbfounded. "How did it survive in her, unless…" He trailed off, and Samuel knew that the smaller Spartan had finally reached the conclusion that he was guiding him toward.

"What?" he asked, his eyes showing that he was still completely lost. "How?"

"ONI had no intentions of ever giving her back to us." Samuel explained, beginning to recite the story that Gael had told him months before. "They wanted to keep her, to run tests on her to find out why she responded so well to the augmentation processes."

"Just like Magnus," Zeke said.

Samuel nodded. "She responded even better than he did, and they wanted to know why. That's why they traded his freedom to us – they didn't need him if they had had her."

"But you went with her," Zeke interjected. "You went with her to the base."

"I did, and when I decided to go with her, their plans had to change. So they came up with a new idea, and a procedure was ordered that no one outside of the program would have ever approved of: a flash-clone."

Ezekiel's eyes went even wider as he realized the implications of Samuel's answer. "Flash-clones aren't reliable," he stated, shaking his head. "They die quickly because of have internal complications. Organs don't form right or a gene isn't produced or-"

"The flash-clone was the one who told me to go back to base," Samuel said, interrupting him. "But then ONI had a problem: they knew we wouldn't leave them alone forever. We'd raise questions and, eventually, we'd want to see Victoria."

Then Zeke put the pieces together. "And then the Flood showed up," he said. "They got the perfect distraction."

Samuel nodded solemnly. "That's right. The flash-clone was given the most basic behavioral and combat training, fitted with an almost-exact replica of Victoria's MJOLNIR armor, and sent with us to fight the Flood. ONI knew that there was no chance that the clone would survive such a mission."

"But they had to know there'd be an autopsy, if for no other reason than to learn about the Flood-"

Samuel shook his head. "There'd be no autopsy, Zeke. And if there was, it wouldn't be revealed to anyone outside of ONI and those responsible for the SPARTAN Program. Don't you remember the slogan?"

Ezekiel's eyes went wide. "Spartans never die," he said, realizing. "They knew we'd never get an autopsy made available because they'd never allow a Spartan to be registered as KIA."

"That's right. And they knew that the clone would surely die."

"Then why send Gael?" Zeke asked. "Why let a high-tier AI fall into the hands of the Flood?"

Samuel shrugged. "Just to sell it, I guess. Or maybe they had another reason; I don't know." He paused. "Regardless, it almost worked. If it hadn't been for Gael, we'd have never known."

Ezekiel's fists were clenched at his sides as his eyes narrowed. "They have her." He said, visibly seething. "They still have her."

"We think so." Samuel said. "But I honestly don't know for sure." He was about to speak again when Ezekiel cut him off.

"And you knew all this!" He shouted. "Gael knew! From the beginning, you've known! And you never told me…"

"Zeke," Samuel said, trying to control the rage that he had known was coming, the same rage that had almost kept him from bringing the subject to light in the first place. "Calm down and listen to me."

Shockingly, he did. Ezekiel's standard demeanor returned, except that his eyes could no longer hide his reaction, overflowing with a combination of pain and anger.

"Gael tried to tell you immediately," Samuel said. "But you wouldn't let her. I tried to tell you when we got back, but you refused to talk about Victoria." Sam paused. "Once, I tried, and you disappeared for three days. I couldn't have you doing that routinely, not when we needed you for food-runs and the day-to-day operations."

"You should've told me." He growled. "I deserved that. I deserved to-"

"You're right." Samuel admitted. "And I'm sorry. You don't know how many times I've wished that I'd have told you. I just wanted to be able to tell you more for sure about where she is now. Why do you think I went to Africa?"

"To look for survivors," Zeke snapped.

Sam shook his head. "I went partially for that reason. More than that, I went to check terminals in ONI-owned complexes for any traces of Victoria."

"And did you find anything?" Samuel could hear an ounce of hope in the smaller Spartan's voice.

"No," he said sorrowfully. "No I didn't. I can't find anything on her, anywhere. She could be off-planet, on a ship somewhere. Or Gravemind could have found her. Or maybe she's still hidden somewhere here on Earth, in some base somewhere…" He sighed. "I don't know. I promise you, if I did, I'd tell you."

Zeke simply stood there for several seconds, breathing heavily and slowly stabilizing himself. Finally, he asked, "do you know anything? Anything at all?" He was working to cover it, but Sam could still hear the emotion in his tone: pleading, desperation. He wanted something.

Anything.

Samuel took a deep breath. There was one bit of information he'd been reluctant to share, not specifically because he didn't believe it, but because if it was false, it would look like he had fabricated it to suit his own ends.

Still, Ezekiel had asked.

"I found one report," Samuel said carefully. "I don't know if it even referred to her, but Gael seemed certain that it did."

"And?"

Samuel closed his eyes. "It was from Los Angeles."

* * *

_Stephanie will agree to it, no matter what it is._ Blaine was running through a mental checklist of the team, trying to decide what decision would be made in regards to Samuel's plan to fight the Flood. _Landon's out. He wants Jason as far away from this Hellhole as possible._

He jumped over a fallen tree, then turned and began running along the coast of the island. The biomechanical Spartan had no need for his armor out here: he was cybernetic from the waist up, and when he'd come back from the Assault Carrier and actually taken the time to ask about it, every medical authority known to man had agreed that he was impervious to infection by the Flood…and especially to the tiny spores that permeated the air.

And now that there were half-a-dozen Spartans on the island, he felt calm enough to wear something besides his metallic shell.

_Jason can't fight anyway, so he'll have no say in any of it. Ezekiel…_ His mind stalled at the thought of the smaller Spartan. Would Zeke fight? Would he actually swallow his personal wishes and fight for the team?

The biomechanical soldier concluded fairly quickly that he would, even if it would take a little convincing on Sam's part. Of course, that didn't take into the account the possibility that the genetically-altered bastard might piss someone off and get himself killed before the meeting ever took place.

Blaine grinned. He hoped that, if it did happen, that it would be with him.

He turned left, running around a large boulder and following the beach as it curved to the left-

"Sam?" he asked, stopping suddenly. Samuel was standing right in front of him, fully armored and looking out at the ocean.

"Blaine," Zeke suddenly stood up from his hidden seat on the rock to Samuel's right.

Blaine's temper surged for a moment, but died quickly. "Hey," he said flatly. "What's goin' on?"

Samuel removed his helmet. "Just discussing the past," he said cryptically.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Tell me later?"

Sam nodded.

"You can tell him now, Sam," Zeke said. "It makes no difference."

Samuel turned toward him. "I'll tell him at the meeting." Then he faced Blaine again. "Can I assume that you'll help me if this plan goes through?"

Blaine scoffed quietly. "What else have we got to live for, Sam?" he asked coldly. "We were trained to protect Earth and humanity." He shrugged. "One of them is gone. Might as well try to save the other."

"Good," he said. "Now if only I could get Landon to see it the same way."

Blaine couldn't help himself. "I'm surprised Zeke here agreed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"Oh, calm your ass down," Blaine answered. "I know you better than that. Don't act like Sam didn't have to have to pull some kind of string to get you onboard."

Ezekiel rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said, turning away.

In an instant, Blaine became more than slightly curious at what had been said before he arrived. He couldn't remember the last time Zeke had used the word "whatever" as a comeback – if he ever had.

"You alright?" he asked, slightly concerned.

"Fine," Zeke answered harshly without turning around.

Blaine thought about pursuing the argument, but decided against it. He shook his head, giving up, then turned back to Samuel. "I'll see you at the meeting."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

At that, Blaine started running again, passing the two Spartans-

"And Blaine," the voice was Samuel's.

"Yeah?" he asked, stopping and turning around.

"Thank you," he said.

Blaine grinned. "Don't thank me yet," he said. "Keep that for when I save your ass on the battlefield." With that, he turned and continued his run.

* * *

"He's doing better," the ex-ODST, Jackie, said confidently. "His chances are decent, but it's a serious injury. I can't exactly make any promises."

Stephanie nodded. "I know," she said. "I just wish there was something we could do, instead of standing around, waiting."

"Now you know how we feel," Joseph Wallace commented from his chair by the Prowler's entrance. Miedema and Robert Johnson were both standing nearby, nodding their heads in agreement.

"Yeah," Stephanie said, "must be hard." She paused as a realization came to her. "We never asked you what you all wanted, did we? I mean, about extraction?"

"Sam already talked to us," Scott said as he came out of Jason's room and closed the door behind him. "We came to our decision." With that, he walked over and propped himself up beside the door, opposite the other men.

"Bullshit," Robert snapped. "I didn't agree to nothing."

"We all supported Samuel's choice," Miedema said. Then, he added plainly, "except Robert: he's a coward."

"To Hell with you, Joel," Johnson answered. "You don't know shit. You just close your eyes and follow the great and mighty Spartans." He rolled his eyes, his voice dripping sarcasm.

"The Spartans are the reason we're alive." Joseph said.

Stephanie suddenly felt more than a little uncomfortable. They were perfectly content to have this conversation as if she wasn't even in the room.

"Yeah, that's right," Robert answered, "kiss all their asses, Joe, even hers!" He pointed loosely at Stephanie as the pressurized chamber four feet behind him slid open, though he was obviously too preoccupied with his own rant to notice. "Bitch just got here and-"

In a fraction of a second, Samuel had stepped out of the chamber and snatched the man up by the back of his neck. Then he turned the smaller man around to look him in the eye, holding him almost six feet off the ground. "Watch your mouth," he growled dangerously, holding his helmet in his free hand. "Or I'll throw you to the wolves."

Robert smirked arrogantly. "You wouldn't let the Flood know what I kn-"

Samuel lifted the man higher so that he could see Zeke and Blaine standing behind the giant Spartan, glaring at former-accountant with hatred in their eyes. "I meant these two," he said coldly, letting go and allowing Robert to fall to the floor. His knees gave way the second he landed, and his body hit the ground in a heap.

Then he quickly picked himself up, grabbed a suit from the rack on the wall, and stepped into the pressurized exit, sliding carefully between Blaine and Ezekiel and letting the door slide shut behind him, all the time muttering angrily about "damned soldiers."

"That wasn't necessary," Stephanie said, smiling nonetheless.

"Yes it was," Sam answered plainly, laying his helmet on the floor near the entrance.

"Next time," Blaine said, "just kick his ass. Not like anyone's gonna try and stop you."

"Forget him," Samuel said, closing the subject, "someone go and get Landon. It's time to find out if he'll change his mind."

"I got him." Blaine answered quickly, heading into Jason's room and closing the door.

Samuel turned to the three non-Spartans by the door. "Do me a favor, would you?"

"Sure Sam," Miedema answered immediately.

"Go and watch Johnson. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Private meeting?" Joseph asked with a knowing smile.

Samuel nodded.

"Come on guys," Wallace said loudly with feigned irritation, "we're not good enough for the Spartan-party." He grabbed an ODST suit from the rack by the door and entered the chamber, with Scott and Miedema close behind.

Stephanie looked at Zeke, who was already propped up against the far wall, eyes closed and arms crossed.

Like clockwork.

The door to Jason's room slid open as Landon stepped out with Blaine close behind. Samuel nodded to Jackie, and she immediately walked by them, closing the door once more behind her.

"So," Samuel said, turning and eyeing each Spartan one by one. "This is it."

* * *

"We're all family here," Samuel started, still glancing around, "so I'm just gonna fill you all in, and then go through the ranks. If anyone doesn't want to go – for any reason – just say so. There'll be no questions asked."

Blaine, along with Landon, nodded calmly, then stepped out of the other Spartan's way, who walked quickly to the wall opposite Ezekiel's and stood quietly. Stephanie was only a few feet away, and she gave Blaine a look as if to say, "is he okay?"

Blaine only shrugged, then moved to the middle of the room and quietly sat down, cross-legged on the floor. As far as he was concerned, there was no reason to be up and anxious about whatever news Samuel was about to give. This way, he was relaxed, calm, and in some ways probably more open to whatever likely-suicidal plan Sam had bouncing around in his head.

And Hell, if Zeke could attend a meeting with his eyes closed, then taking a seat amongst the group would hardly be cause for reprimand.

He glanced up at Landon, who was watching Samuel intensely. And he noticed something different about the other Spartan.

There was something there, something in his eyes – something that hadn't been there when Sam had first mentioned the idea of combating the Flood.

But what was it?

"I have a few things that have to be said before we make any decisions." Samuel continued. "The first is about Victoria."

Blaine was suddenly confused. What could possibly warrant Samuel bringing up her name now, of all times?

"As I'm sure you've all been told, there was a death aboard the Flood-controlled Assault Carrier last March." He paused. "What you haven't been told…is that it was not Victoria Small."

"What?" Stephanie's voice betrayed her still-calm demeanor. It practically screamed confusion and anxiety.

"Huh?" Landon was equally confused, but was probably thinking about Jason's current situation, so Blaine concluded that it would be hard for him to focus at all.

Blaine forced himself to stay quiet, closing his mouth hard when he realized that he'd opened it slightly at the statement.

Then he remembered.

_Zeke-_

The smaller Spartan was just standing in his corner, arms crossed and eyes closed, as if the news meant nothing-

It took only a split-second for Blaine to realize that this was the conversation he had missed by mere minutes out on the beach. That was what Samuel had told him. That was why he was so…off.

"Just listen," Samuel said. "I'll answer whatever questions I can after I explain." He took a deep breath. "When ONI took her from us, they replaced her with a flash-clone, who was the one who told me to leave her there. When the Flood arrived a week later, they sent the clone into space with us. They gave it basic training and behavioral skills, put it in a suit of armor, and shipped it to us."

"But why-" Landon caught himself, stopping mid-sentence.

"They knew that an untrained flash-clone, fighting almost exclusively through the imitation of our moves – mostly Zeke's – would never survive a full-on attack by the Flood. And, when the clone inevitably died up there, we'd never be able to take the body to autopsy," he paused, sighing loudly and rolling his eyes, then added with an amount of cynicism uncommon for Samuel, "on account of the UNSC's motto about Spartans."

"Spartans never die," Blaine whispered immediately, suddenly immersed in a kind of anger so intense that he could only remember a few times in his life to compare it to. "They played us." He snarled, consciously unclenching his fists in front of him and forcing his muscles to relax.

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding. "And we only know about it because of Gael."

"How long have you known?" Stephanie asked, obviously hurt.

"Since shortly after we got back to Earth," Samuel said. "But I had no way to tell you, not without even knowing which ship you were on until I got word from the _Atonement_ four days ago."

"Could've told me," Blaine said calmly, being sure to keep his voice level.

"I know," Samuel said. "I should have. And I'm sorry. I should have told you, and I should have told Zeke. I'm fixing it now, as best I can."

Blaine rolled his eyes, sighing quietly. He didn't blame the leading Spartan: there were too many unknowns at the time. In truth, there were too many now, but Blaine had a sneaking suspicion that the knowledge of Victoria's false-death was the only reason Zeke had agreed to go along.

Samuel seemed to know that Blaine had accepted the news well, because he asked with a smirk, "Forgive me?" His tone made it clear that he already knew that answer.

"If he has," Blaine answered with feigned frustration, motioning to Zeke, "wouldn't make sense for me to hold a grudge, would it?"

"He hasn't," Zeke snapped, putting emphasis on the word "he", referring to himself in the third-person.

Blaine rolled his eyes, this time in true annoyance. "Forget about it, Sam." He said anyway. "What does this mean for us? Where is she?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I've looked all over for information – anything about her procedures or who had control over them – and I found nothing."

Zeke scoffed loudly.

"Fine," Sam said, correcting himself. "I found one report. It's thin, at best, but Gael thinks it has meaning. It points to Los Angeles."

_That explains a lot,_ Blaine thought. Samuel might very well have been viewing his plan to combat the Flood as their big "second chance", a chance to save humanity and stop the Flood…but that wasn't why Ezekiel was going.

He was going for his own "second chance", a chance to find Victoria and to spare himself from the grief he was still refusing to deal with.

"Then let's go!" Stephanie yelled earnestly. "We have to find her!"

"It's not that simple." Samuel answered. "She could be anywhere. She could be off-planet, or Gravemind could have found her, or she could be buried in a base somewhere-"

"But we have to try!" Stephanie argued. "She deserves that!"

"Okay," Sam said, "okay. Just let me finish with the details, alright?"

Stephanie nodded.

"It works out well that the report came from Los Angeles, because that's exactly where my plan calls for us to go. I want to infiltrate the city and find the NOVA Warheads. According to Corporal Charles, there were originally three – one was already underground by the time we got there."

"That's more than enough to put the Flood in their place!" Landon said.

"Yes it is," Samuel said, "but not from there. Gael's run a hundred different simulations, all of them with those bombs detonating in California. In every one of them, the planet splits, and parts of it near the blast drift in random directions, but it's conceivable – likely, even – that the Flood could survive, especially with any kind of defendable shelter. Any of them on the other side of the planet could finish their ships and leave, and then it's all for nothing."

"These are NOVA bombs, Sam," Blaine said. "They'll fry everything – Flood or not."

"But the blast will be focused on the one side of the world," Samuel explained. "Yes: everything on that side is dead, period. But the other side won't have the same fate. We have to move the bombs to cover the whole planet."

"I still think it's overkill," Landon said. "Three NOVA Warheads – anywhere on the planet – should destroy everything, everywhere."

"And most likely, they would," Samuel agreed. "But we can't guarantee it. We have no way of knowing exactly how the explosions would go and what kind of ground they would cover." He paused. "Basically, I'm doing it to cover all the bases, because if we do it and we leave even one Flood-controlled ship space-worthy, it was all for nothing, and the galaxy is finished. The UNSC isn't ready to take the fight to the Flood, and the Sangheili haven't responded to any distress calls yet. We could very well be the best chance that humanity has right now…and I'm not gonna cut corners."

"Okay," Blaine interjected. "Where were you thinking?"

"We leave one in Los Angeles, take another to the remains of New Mombasa. The glassing process that occurred when the Elites destroyed the Flood infestation there has caused the tectonic plates to shift, creating deep, wide canyons and tunnels that lead far into the Earth's crust. We leave one there, as deep as we can."

"Why not just drop it in one of the trenches in the ocean?" Landon asked. "Why not Mariana's Trench?"

"Because I don't know very much about the NOVA Warheads," Samuel answered. "And neither does Gael. The UNSC was very careful to guard any information on their "greatest weapons". We don't know what that kind of pressure would do to them. We don't even know if the water would compromise the casing or the detonator or any other part of the bomb. It's too big a risk."

"Fair enough," Blaine said. "And the third warhead?"

At this, Samuel smiled. "We're taking it to the core of the Flood's system: Sydney, Australia."

"HIGHCOM…" Stephanie said.

"Not just HIGHCOM," Sam clarified, "but to The Hive: three kilometers below the surface, surrounded by high-density, EMP-resistant blast plating. And since all our best guesses put Gravemind somewhere under HIGHCOM, we're all but guaranteed to take out the Flood's central intelligence."

"Breaking into HIGHCOM…with the Flood…" Stephanie's eyes were filled with disbelief. "Sam, I don't know if we've got the firepower."

"She's right," Landon said. "Even if we all go, that's five Spartans. HIGHCOM is the place they'll expect us to hit; there're likely to be millions of them."

"Not millions," Zeke spoke suddenly. "Gravemind would have us believe that he has billions of Combat Forms under his control." He paused. "But he'd be lying."

"You think his numbers aren't substantial?" Landon asked sarcastically.

"Of course they're substantial, you idiot," he answered indignantly. "But Combat Forms don't last long. They're not reliable over long periods. The only things that he can use for extended periods of time are Pure Forms, and they require a lot of biomass. Do you think Gravemind feels like he needs millions of Pure Forms on this rock to combat a few Spartans and maybe a grand total of a hundred living people?"

"He's right," Sam said, taking advantage of the conversation at hand. "Don't misunderstand: if we get outnumbered and surrounded, that's it. We're dead. There's no getting around that. But, that doesn't mean that, everywhere we go, the Flood will be like locusts. Gravemind has no reason to cover every square inch of the Earth with Combat Forms, so logically, we think that he hasn't."

"Maybe not the whole world, but that still leaves L.A. and Sydney," Blaine said, finally choosing to throw his own opinion into the mix. "And he will have those two guarded. Now, I'm all for it, but I think everyone here needs to acknowledge and understand the risk we're taking."

Samuel nodded. "This won't be a typical mission. Stealth is key. For a change, we're outmanned and outgunned…but we're not outmatched. We have the element of surprise, and we have five healthy, combat-ready Spartans." He smiled brightly. "We can do this."

For what seemed like eternity, no one said anything. The entire Prowler was completely and utterly silent as each Spartan waited for another to speak. Even Blaine waited, although his reason was simple: he wanted to see if Landon would choose on his own, or if he would wait to see what the others would decide. Still, Blaine expected that Stephanie would answer momentarily, siding with Samuel and his plan-

But, surprisingly, it was Ezekiel who broke the silence.

"I'm in." He said without moving, without looking up.

Soon after, Stephanie spoke. "Me too."

Blaine nodded, looking Samuel in the eye. "You know I'm in."

"Yeah," he answered. "I know." The leading Spartan turned to look at Landon. "Well? How 'bout it?"

It took Landon several seconds to answer, as he just stood there, staring at the floor. Finally, he said painfully, "okay." He nodded, seeming to force himself to continue. "Yes. I'm with you."

Samuel seemed puzzled and slightly concerned by the decision. "You sure?"

Landon nodded. "Yeah," he said more confidently, "I'm sure."

"Okay." Samuel finished. "Here's the deal: I couldn't pull rank to make you agree, but if you're all sure about this, if you're going to come with me, then we do it just like old times. That means we go all the way – and when we do things, we do them my way. Everyone all right with that?"

"Always," Stephanie said.

Blaine nodded silently.

"Of course, Sam." Landon said.

Zeke didn't move.

"Zeke?" he asked. "You hear me?"

"I heard."

"And…?"

"I accepted the terms already, or I'd have never agreed." He paused. "Your last statement was a given."

"Good," Samuel answered, ignoring his bitter mood and turning to the rest of the group. "That's it then. If everyone's sure, then we'll make the preparations. The Admiral sent weapons down with us that I think should help out, but it's still gonna be tough."

"How long?" Landon asked. "How long 'til we leave?"

"We'll stay here for two more days. That gives everyone a chance to prep, and it'll let us see how Jason's recovery progresses. We've got time."

"And these weapons?" Blaine asked curiously.

"I'll show them to you in the morning." Samuel answered. "No use in ruining a good surprise now. In the meantime, I want everyone to get some rest; we've got a lot of planning to do tomorrow."

* * *

**Author's Notes: Well, that's it. I know, not exactly prime-quality, but these chapters don't exactly come easy to me (actually, that's a lie: they're obscenely difficult. I like fighting, shooting, running, dodging, KILLING...this stuff is a colossal pain, lol).**

**But, all in all, now you know. You know the truth. Victoria Small: cloned and killed off. So now, new questions: where? When? Alive?**

**Sorry, I'm a terrible person, and you'll have to wait and see (though I'm sure many of you have guesses already). Thanks all! Be sure to drop me a line and let me know what you thought!**

**- Raptor**


	9. Chapter 8: Sleepless Night

**Author's Notes: So...I'm not even going to try to defend myself. It's been, what? Eight weeks? Nine? It's inexcusable. Fact is, I've been a little (okay, a lot) busy, and - as if that weren't enough to slow down my progress infinitely - I had a nasty case of...well, that term that I hate using, lol. Writer's...something? Stop? Wall? Barrier? Ah, someone will remember.**

**Add to that the fact that I'm a proud S.O.B. who adamantly hates asking for assistance, and you get someone who writes alone in his dorm with music up and door locked, which, surprisingly, I feel like fosters...well, that term again. I haven't gotten to chat very much about what's coming up, which was a luxury I got regularly during The Last Stand, because my main help went and got a life on me. ;) Oh yeah, while I'm on that, I get to take my artistic license and make an announcement Samson00 won't make but I feel is far, far, FAR more important than this worthless waste of several kilobytes that I call "writing":**

**My proofreader, my main idea-bouncing ally and writer's biggest help in all this mess...my good friend, Samson00, went and got engaged in the last several weeks since I posted anything for you all. Whether he wanted me to mention it or not (or, the more likely answer: didn't think anything of it or care), I have, and I now publicly wish him and his wife-to-be (Bubbles, for any of you who remember my mention of her at the end of The Last Stand) the very very best. **

**HOWEVER, if they should ever stumble upon this, I must make it clear: this does NOT mean that the jokes will stop. On the contrary, I'm just getting warmed up. ;) What? Don't roll your eyes! You're getting married! I have my rights! hahaha.  
**

**Now that I've addressed that, allow me to hit the reviews (there were a lot, THANK YOU very much, and I deeply apologize for my late responses).**

**REVIEWS:**

**Ildina: Two things:  
1. Yep, Vic is alive, believe it or not.  
2. That was a long wait, huh? Well, I believe I've trumped it. Again...apologies.  
Thanks very much for reviewing, and I hope to be able to respond in the future must faster!**

**iamzultan: lol, glad you still like it. It's been a while, but my hope is that you're still checking your email occasionally and might notice the new message when this comes out. ;) Thanks a lot, and enjoy what's coming up (much sooner than usual, I promise)!**

**0756: lol, you're scaring me a little. ;) I certainly hope not to flush it anywhere. Though, time may have done that for me. College is a lot more strenuous this year than it was last time around. *sigh* I hope you like what I've got planned...thanks regardless though, and enjoy!**

**Drake S. Hellion: Yeah, she's alive. It's confusing, huh? She died, but not. Just a shell, a clone, a copy. Anyways, thanks very much, and I hope that this story will one day top the original!**

**Mhop12: haha! Don't worry...I put off my fair share of homework when it comes to Zulu Company, lol. And I have to agree with your zombie statement: the only real difference is that the Flood are infinitely smarter, what with the central intelligence and borderline omniscience and everything. Anyways, thank you, and I hope you like what follows!**

**FireWolfFred: Yeah, lol, one more reason to despise the Office of Naval Intelligence. And don't worry about Magnus - his time will come. Thank you for the compliment, and I hope you enjoy what's coming down the line!**

**killerman83ca: lol, I think we can all relate to computer issues. No problem. Thanks for reviewing anyway! Enjoy!**

**ching965: You're absolutely right. Samuel's been around the block with Zulu more than once, and he's gotten a pretty good read on how to deal with each of them. He has a job that he knows needs to get done, and he'll play whatever cards he has to in order to make sure that it gets done. As for the Flash Clone....well, it was a curve I've had ready since the chapter first posted, what? Almost a year ago now? It's rather difficult to hold something like that to yourself and a few others for so long, lol. And Landon and Jason: it's as you said: they're family. Jason made a choice, and he made it knowing full well what consequences would (likely) be. Regardless of all that, I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter or two of my "setting the stage" before I launch them out, lol. Thanks!**

**The Elven-Spear: lol, yes...yes she is. :)**

**xcavars: Yeah, she's alive. The question is: where? And don't worry: the weapons will prove themselves quite useful, rest assured. Thanks very much!**

**Suliac Griffin: Brilliant writers, huh? You flatter me. However, that aside, I'm glad you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, as it really was a pain on my part. Though I do agree on the character part (not the development): it was great to get them all back together again. I know readers seemed to like it, but it was a joy for me too. I've finally got them all back (well, most), and, even if this chapter came out a little bumpy (which it has), I think I've recovered and the next one promises to be very entertaining (especially for Blaine fans...no spoilers). And as for Vic: it was something I really wanted to do and do right, and I think it's come out alright for now. The difficult part will come later, but it also promises to be some of my best work if I don't screw it up, lol. So I'm looking forward to it. And yes, Gravemind does know, as I'll draw some attention to this chapter. Thank you for your review, and I hope you're as fond of future chapters!  
**

**Bashbro: Thank you! lol. And yep: she's alive. Somewhere. hehehe. Thanks very much!**

**Eternity of Night: I almost wish you had...just so that maybe I'd have gotten this one done sooner! lol**

**DoctorG27: As I told Suliac Griffin: you flatter me. However, I very much appreciate the compliments (though I'm no Stephen King, unfortunately...excellent writer). And yes, to answer your question: I've been wanting to do that little twist with Vic's death ever since it happened (before that, actually). And YES, it has been killing me. lol. I've actually thought quite a bit about your comment on weapons. True, everyone has a trademark of sorts, but I could understand where it would get repetitive, and I'll look into spicing it up a bit. As for the Gravemind bombing: YOU AND ME BOTH, lol. Big stuff planned.  
Oh, and to answer your question about the Elites: I would LOVE to. But I don't know yet. Right now: there's a chance they'll show up at one point, but no promises. I've got a lot of limitations put on me due to my plans for them (no spoilers), so just know that I want to, and I will try.  
And finally: don't worry. No ODST spoilers. I've barely played the game, lol.**

**Crytyk: I must tell you: your review made my day (and several days since then). I particularly liked the "ruined fanfiction for me" line. I don't personally believe that my writing is anything to write home about, but I am sincerely glad that others seem to. In truth, I write for me, but it makes the process so much better when there are individuals who appreciate it. So thank you (and, as I've grown accustomed to saying: you flatter me greatly).  
That out of the way, I'm a big Zeke-fan too. Probably too much, in that I'm a little biased. lol. But I can't have just one main character - just wouldn't work for Zulu, as you understood quite well I think. But I have to laugh, because, if I thought I could get away with it, my writing would likely shift to a single "main" character...but I consciously TRY to check myself. lol  
And as for your question: I have NO IDEA. I'll have to ask Bungie that when I send the book in, lol.  
Thank you very much, and I hope you continue to read along!**

**The Not-So Addict: HEY! You were finally proven right! lol. After all this time, your review that shook me to the core when I read it has proven correct! hahaha. Moving on:  
Your question about bombing Gravemind: it would work in that the Flood would lose the central intelligence. However, the Flood are naturally driven to collect and pool biomass to create a Gravemind if they don't have one, so it would be a short-lived victory, given the vast reserves of biomass they have on Earth. That's why Sam wants to simply bomb it all.  
ODST was fun, what little I played of it. Firefight is a blast, I'll give it that. I don't know how fun the rest of the game is yet. Hopefully, by Christmas, I will. :)  
And, to answer your question about The Last Stand: SLOWLY. I intend to finish editing for the part I want to send in over Christmas break. I HOPE TO, anyway. lol  
Thanks for reviewing, and enjoy what's to come!**

**Samus117: lol, that's the exact reaction I was hoping for! It's been a big secret for almost a year, haha. And I'm glad you enjoyed the character interactions - they give me a bit of trouble last time around (and this time too, now that I think about it, lol). And no word on ONI...just have to wait and see. And I appreciate the pointing out, lol...it's a little higher than that now. Awesome! Thanks much!**

**RandomMan:  
1. Yep!  
2. I suppose they have been. ;)  
3. He always does.  
4. Thank you very much for the compliment, and enjoy what's on the way!**

**Benny'star: Ummm...good? lol. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like this chapter as well!**

**LordRaid: Well well well...the first really long review I've had in quite some time. ;) Where to begin...  
1. I'm curious as to why right now you decided to review after so long? Not that I'm not appreciative (I very much am). I'm simply curious as to what changed after two years. :)  
2. We've all come VERY far, I agree.  
3. I'd be curious to see the edits you had for The Last Stand (I promise you my list is longer, lol).  
4. I understand entirely what you mean about the POV for Hell On Earth vs that of The Last Stand. It was a necessary choice for the last book: focused on Vic's "death", on Zeke's reaction (since it sets him up for this book), and on the others. Here, however, while Zeke, admittedly, is still my primary character, the others are going to be brought much deeper into the fold than perhaps they were at the end of the previous book. That's a slow process, but it is underway.  
5. The Elites! I've had so many people email and comment here asking me "where the Hell are the Sangheili?" that I can't even count them. I promise you, I have not disgraced the Elites or made them into cowards or deserters. There is a MORE than adequate reason as to why they're not on Earth, vaporizing the Flood...I just can't give it yet. However, as I mentioned to DocterG27, I am looking for possible ways to include them earlier on in this story. And I really want to, so it's just a matter of time.  
6. I like your comment about the "suicidal bloodlusts" where people go insane and somehow manage to take on unfathomable odds. I've read a few of those, and I can't say I'm innocent. That's what Zulu IS. Granted, they aren't usually insane or suicidal, but they represent a force capable of taking on otherwise impossible odds (sometimes with relative ease). And, to me, it's only when you find the odds that are impossible to THEM that you get a real story going. And Blaine's little outburst: it was pure hatred and a sense of duty. He told Sam he'd do it, and he did. He plowed, crushed, blasted, and slammed everything between him and door, and then he collapsed. It took everything he had, and he didn't "beat" them, he simply fought through them. That, to me, makes a story.  
7. Nova will return in time, rest assured. I did not go to the trouble of introducing them for the sake of leaving them out to dry, lol. But, at the end of the day, it is ZULU Company, so they only get supporting roles most of the time. :)  
8. The Last Stand is still being edited (it's a slow, tedious, obnoxious process alone), and I hope to finish and send it in over my Christmas break, when I have more time (I've been a little swamped lately, if you couldn't tell by my 8 week posting delay, lol).  
So, in short, after all that: thank you very much for your detailed review, and I hope that, now that you've done it once, you'll continue to let me know what's on your mind after reading! Thanks again, and enjoy what's to come!**

**Percabethfan117: Hi! I'm always happy to have a new reviewer! However, since I've taken two months to post again, and I REALLY want this posted before I go to bed, I'm going to look over your reviews and comment only a little, in addition to answering your questions:  
1. Blaine NEVER runs out of Gravity Hammers. LOL  
2. They wear the ODST armor because it has an air-filtration system that keeps the Flood spores in the air from getting into their lungs. Also, they block bullets better than flesh does. ;)  
3. I'm positive I'm not a professional. :) lol. But thank you!  
4. Jason's not dead...yet. Only time will tell.  
5. Steph got beaten up a bit by the Juggernaut who threw her through a window, lol. She got hit pretty hard, along with by the horde of the Flood that attacked her before the others arrived.  
6. LOL...I'm going to refrain from mocking North Dakota, on account of I've never been there for myself, and I might have readers from there. That being said, I WILL say that it's way too cold up there for me. 'Course, I mock Ohio for the same reason...but I can do that, 'cause I live here too. ;)  
7. Three NOVA's might be what some would call "overkill", but Samuel simply doesn't want to take the chance that anything could survive. That's the game you play with the Flood: if ONE spore escapes, they can begin all over again. Think about it: some people would say that creating seven planet-sized rings with the capacity to eliminate every ounce of sentient life in the galaxy is overkill too...but the Forerunner did it, to stop the Flood.  
8. And I'm glad you hate Robert: you're supposed to. :)  
9. Nova Company is away...they'll make their appearance eventually.  
...as will Magnus.  
10. Very little has changed in Zeke's armor. The only difference is that, as opposed to carrying two Energy Swords with him that run on Covenant batteries, he has the technology found inside the hilt of the blade inside the gauntlet of his MJOLNIR armor. In essence, he has two swords equipped at all times and can activate them at a moment's notice. Plus, the get their battery power from the suit and will never permanently die.  
Thanks for your (many) reviews, and I hope you like this next one!**

**zamilion: Yeah, Zeke's having a rough time in this one. It'll kinda be the theme for a while...  
And yep: I brought the NOVA's in. As I said many times in The Last Stand: I have a reason for EVERYTHING I do, lol. And you're about right: with 5 Spartans at full capacity and one just recovering...well, it's basically just 5. And to answer your question: YES, the Stalkers do have a Flood form. You just haven't seen it yet. ;) Thank you!  
**

**Anonymous: Would you believe I've had longer? lol. Thanks for the compliment, and enjoy!  
**

**

* * *

Chapter 8:**

– **Sleepless Night –**

**0100 Hours - July 16, 2553**

**Silhouette Island - Sychelles Islands, East Of Africa**

Zeke felt the edge of the sword cut through the air in front of him, angled downward as it tore through his shields and armor that covered his chest. The searing plasma didn't even slow down when it reacted with the metal and the very flesh that the suit had been protecting. He resisted the impulse to step away from his foe, checking the wound-

It was shallow, nowhere near enough to do anything permanent except scar. The burns that surrounded the cut seethed and ached already, but that didn't matter, not to Ezekiel. He felt his body move as if on its own, side-stepping to the right of his enemy, twisting around with his left arm raised above his chest before plunging the mounted blade as deep into his adversary as it would go.

It was only then that he heard the sounds: the sharp "pop" of an Infection Form being punctured and destroyed, a cold hiss as the Energy Sword that had sliced him only moments before deactivated and fell to the ground…and a sharp gasp for breath as she fell forward, pain and fear in her eyes.

"Vic!"

* * *

For the second time that night, Ezekiel Veron sprang up from his bed, panting for breath and with his fists clenched before him. The gash across his front burned like it had when she – it – had first attacked him, and when he forcibly unclenched his hands, they shook uncontrollably in front of him.

"Damn it all," he gasped before letting out a loud, painful sigh and lying back down. For several minutes, he just stayed there, staring up at the ceiling, with the flickering, blue light on one side of his laptop serving as his only light-source.

"Another?" Demon's voice echoed quietly in the darkness even before the AI's digital avatar appeared above the small computer.

Zeke nodded. "Another."

"I know what that means." The AI said, though he did not sound at all enthused.

"You and me both," the Spartan answered, standing up and starting to get dressed.

* * *

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Samuel felt more than a little nervous as he hit his knees beside the small bunk that was serving as his bed for the next few days. He closed his eyes, focusing only on one thing, the thing that drove him to make every decision, the same thing that he attributed his every breath to.

"Father God," he started, knowing exactly what he wanted but unsure of precisely how to ask for it. "Thank You for this day, for my brothers and sisters around me, and for the position that You have put me in. I'm not sure what I'm to do, but I know that I cannot do it on my own."

Samuel paused, contemplating his own thoughts and the plan that he'd already decided to set forth. He'd gone over it a hundred times in his mind, and still, he could think of no other way to deal with the Flood. The plan that had presented itself to him on a whim was the same one that he felt led to follow now.

"Give me the direction to follow the path, and the strength to make it to the end." He took another breath, smiling sincerely at the peace that presented itself during his prayers. "I ask for protection and guidance, both for myself and for those who will be with me, fighting to save Your people from destruction. Bless us as we look to the perils ahead and may the glory go to You. Guide my every action, my every thought, my every heartbeat, Lord. Amen."

At the last word, he opened his eyes and stood up, walking to the opposite side of the small room and getting down on his hands and feet, leveling his body to the floor.

"A solid hundred to start," he said quietly, stretching his arms out. "We'll see where I go from there."

And, with that, he started his evening workout, pushups first.

_Samuel's lost his mind. How the Hell we can possibly win this? At the end of the day, we're still three Spartans short, up against numbers we can hardly imagine, much less find a way to combat. We've got shit for weapons, no backup… _Blaine scowled. _How do we do this?_

"Damn it," he snapped, voicing his thoughts aloud. "Why the Hell is this all coming up now?"

For two hours, similar thoughts had flooded his mind, forcefully removing any hope of sleep that Blaine had had when he first lied down. There had been thoughts about the mission ahead, about Victoria, about Jason's status, about ONI and their damned lies…

Now, it was almost two in the morning, and he still couldn't manage to get an ounce of rest.

"Screw this shit," he said finally, standing up in the near-pitch-dark room and stretching his legs. He was in one of several individual chambers that the Spartans had designated as "sleeping quarters": small rooms usually with a trio of bunks and little else but bare walls. In addition, they'd all decided that there were plenty of rooms and that everyone could use a little time to themselves.

So apart from the pair set for guard duty that night – Joseph and Robert – everyone else was in their own room, fast asleep.

_Except me,_ Blaine thought bitterly. _Damn it._

He walked to the door as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light and it slid open in almost complete silence, giving way to the dim glow of the lights that lined the halls and entrance of the Prowler.

"I thought we were on duty all night." Joseph's words rang in the Spartan's ears before he even managed to fully leave the room.

"You are." Blaine answered bluntly.

"Then why-"

"Too much on my mind," he said. "I'm just gonna go outside and relax for a while."

"Without your armor?" The look on Joseph's face was a mix of concern and amusement.

Blaine was too tired to be amused. "Yes," he said dangerously, daring Wallace to continue.

"Just curious," the man answered with a laugh. Then he added lightly, "have fun. Stay sharp."

"You too," Blaine said, walking past him. He made it all the way to the door to the pressurized chamber before a new thought crossed his mind. Turning around, he asked, "anyone else been up?"

"Landon's still with Jason." He answered.

Blaine had expected as much. "Anyone else?"

"Stephanie." Joseph answered. "She's outside. No clue where."

"Armored?"

Joseph nodded.

Without another word, Blaine stepped into the chamber and let the doors close behind him.

* * *

Stephanie sat in silence with her back against a tree on the shoreline of Silhouette, helmet off, staring up at the darkened sky, letting her mind wander and following it religiously to wherever it decided to travel.

Mostly, it stayed on Victoria, on the fact that, after everything they'd been told, she was still alive – somewhere. More than alive, actually.

_She's probably out there, somewhere,_ Stephanie thought, looking into space, _wishing she could fight again._ Or maybe she was fighting again. How could anyone know? She could be on another planet somewhere, fighting the remains of the Covenant, if there were any. Or perhaps Samuel had been right, and ONI still had her.

There was just no way to know.

Then there was Jason, lying in a makeshift hospital bed, potentially dying. Landon spent nearly every minute in that room, as if somehow Jason would instantly fade away if he left.

_It's not that,_ Stephanie told herself. _He just couldn't face it if Jason died while he was anywhere else._ She shook the thoughts out, trying to keep the idea of losing another teammate from entering her mind.

Her mind turned to Samuel, who, through it all, was still trying to hold the team together. She couldn't fathom how he intended to do it, to fight the Flood on their own ground and expect to win…but she'd follow him anyway. There was no reason not to – it was Samuel. He'd never led them to failure before.

Still, even with him at the front, Stephanie couldn't make herself believe that his newest plan could work. The Flood's numbers were simply staggering. Even if Ezekiel was right, and Gravemind didn't commit the majority of his biomass to Pure Forms, that still left the remaining Combat Forms and whatever else he had decided to make. Add to that the knowledge that these Flood Forms would likely be armed – perhaps even piloting aircrafts or manning turrets – and it made for a very, very dangerous assault.

On an impulse, she stood up, grabbing her helm in her hands and putting it back on before walking along the beach. She walked, immersed in thought for only a few minutes before coming across the entrance to the cavern where the vehicles were stored-

And she stopped.

Deep in the tunnel, she could see what looked to be the very slight hint of a glow, and – just barely – could make out a low humming noise echoing inside.

The realization hit her instantly: the Phantom was online.

And that only opened the door for more questions: who? How? The Flood, or a person? Why would-

She forced the thoughts to the back of her mind, dashing into the darkness of the tunnel. If whoever – or whatever – had the Phantom planned on leaving, they'd be long gone by the time she could return with any help.

* * *

"You're about nine kinds of worthless, you know that?" Zeke snapped, watching as the Phantom hovered several meters off the ground, glowing purple and humming incessantly. He wasn't armored – shorts and a sleeveless shirt were all he needed for this. The only reason he'd taken his armor at all was to cloak himself and escape the Prowler unnoticed by Wallace or Johnson.

And because Demon was located inside the Phantom, he could shout and rant all he wanted, and the miserable AI had to use the dropship's speakers. For once, he was incapable of talking directly into the Spartan's mind – a habit Ezekiel still found obnoxious.

"I'm worthless?" The electronic voice echoed from the Phantom's audio systems. "Me?" He repeated in disbelief. "Where would you be if I-"

"All I asked for was music and the gravity lift, and so far-"

"I'm doing the best I can!" Demon cut him angrily. "Are you sure this is even what you want to do? I mean, the affects it could have on your body – namely your heart and your bones – are completely untold. I mean, I can speculate, but that's really the extent of it."

"I'm a Spartan." Zeke said frankly. "We were genetically modified to have stronger bodies than a normal human being, so my heart should be fine. As for my bones: they're augmented, remember? I doubt a little extra stress is gonna have any adverse affects on the titanium rods supporting them."

"If you say so," the AI answered, conceding the argument. "Just know that I warned you."

"Any progress on the lift?"

"Give me some time, okay? I'm a high-grade AI that was created to alter the magnetic fields holding plasma – which I'm not even needed anymore for, so I don't know what I'm still doing putting up with you in the first place." Demon paused, apparently waiting for a reaction. When he got nothing, he finished, "Plain and simple: I wasn't exactly designed with this task in mind."

"Well, you better figure it out," Zeke threatened, "because if you don't, I swear to-" He was interrupted as _What I've Done_ began emanating quietly from the ship.

"That's what I thought!" Demon said indignantly. "Now just give me a minute to figure out the polarity on this damned lift."

Ezekiel smiled briefly, but in seconds, was back to his condescending self. "A minute?" he asked. "You can crack security encryptions, outwit Gravemind in a Flood-controlled system, and successfully piss me off every day of the year, and you need a whole minute to figure out something a Grunt is usually in charge of?"

"Bite me." The AI retorted in a surprisingly-human tone.

"Pass," Zeke answered dismissively. "And while you're figuring that out, would you mind turning the music up so that I can actually hear it?"

"It's always something with you," Demon said, and the song coming from the speakers slowly increased in volume until it was echoing around the cavern.

Zeke nodded. "That's better." With the music playing and the lift nearly up and running, he was about as ready as he'd ever be to start working again.

That was going to be the real challenge. His MJOLNIR armor was inside the Phantom, in case his training should call for it, but it wasn't his intention. Strength and speed were already augmented by the suit, so training in it was next to pointless. No, the real strategy was simple: start at the base. Hone the original skills that existed without the help of the armor.

And then let the armor augment those abilities.

"Try it now," the AI said irritably as the purple glow of the gravity lift appeared beneath the Phantom.

Ezekiel shrugged, grabbing one of his mock-Energy Swords and throwing it into the glow. The blade tilted downward-

Then began to rise.

"Is it working?"

"Judging by my floating four-hundred-pound blade," Zeke growled, "I'm gonna go with a big "no" on that one." He paused, then snapped impatiently, "come on, damn it! How hard can it be?"

"You know," the AI answered angrily, "it's not as simple as just flicking the switch up and down, alright? The Covenant technology encases all those inside the lift in a sort of contained field of altered gravity. I have to reverse the polarity, then find some way to adjust-"

"I'm gonna stop you there," Zeke interrupted, "because I'm honestly not listening to a word you're saying. Just get the lift working…so that I can get working."

"Sure," Demon answered bitterly. "In the meantime, listen to your music and get off my back." Before Ezekiel could respond, music from the speakers got even louder, reverberating around the cavern.

Ezekiel closed his eyes, standing completely still in the pale light of the Phantom hovering above. He slowed his breathing to the rate he was comfortable with and his mind began scrolling through the movements he was preparing to make. Training had started as a random practice, something to blow off steam and calm his nerves.

Now, however, it was something more. It served a real purpose, more so than his work at the original Zulu Company Training Ground ever had. His skills were to be honed; his speed and strength would be augmented in the only way he knew how.

And, perhaps even more importantly, it served as a much-needed distraction from the thoughts and pains that haunted his conscious – and subconscious – mind. After more nightmares than he cared to keep track of and now more than a week without a decent night's sleep…physical training was the only thing he had left to keep from completely losing his mind. It was the buffer between passion and madness, the barrier that separated his insatiable desire for redemption and the guilt that had all but consumed him in recent months.

_To Hell with it,_ he thought bitterly, finally accepting that Demon was not – and would never – manage to get to the polarity fixed to his satisfaction. Without a word, he stalked over to the swords on the ground-

SLAM!

An unseen force hit him with all the force of a freight train, pushing straight down on him from above and pressing his body into the cavern floor. In a fraction of a second, he was on his stomach, surrounded by dim purple light that was radiating from the Phantom, working to recover his breath.

"What the…Hell…" He tried to stand, but found the endeavor to be almost completely futile. His body felt as though it weighed a ton, and he had to use his arms as braces beneath his chest even to make it onto his knees. Even as he did so, his head felt like it was spinning, and he immediately felt sick to his stomach.

"Did it work?" Demon asked enthusiastically. "I think I figured it out! Is it working?"

"Ah!" Zeke shouted, forcing himself to stand on shaky legs and putting his hands on his knees for support. He forced himself to keep his head still, willing away the nausea. "Yeah, you two-bit bastard, it works!"

"Too much?" the AI asked. "Did I turn it too high?"

Ezekiel wanted to shout again, but his pride got in the way. "No!" He answered against his better judgment. "It's fine!" He forced himself to take a step, putting one foot cautiously in front and putting all his weight forward to avoid being pulled down by the increased gravity.

"How are you doing?" Demon asked. "Is it still working? Zeke?"

"Yes!" he shouted. "It's working! Now shut up!"

He took another step, almost reaching the end of the purple circle of light that marked the gravity lift. One more, and he'd be there. One more, and-

"Zeke!"

The voice was Stephanie's, and his natural reaction – to twist around to face the person responsible for the interruption – caused his head to spin worse than ever and made him lose his balance in the intense gravity. He slipped backwards and fell straight down, hitting the ground as if he'd been slammed into it and facing the Phantom with the wind once again stolen from his lungs.

"Damn it!" he yelled as soon as he had recovered his breathing.

Stephanie clearly had no idea what was going on. "Are you okay?" she asked, rushing over to him, clad in her full MJOLNIR armor.

"No!" he started. "Don't come int-"

It was too late. Stephanie stepped into the edge of the purple light and was caught completely off-guard by the change in forces. She stumbled and fell forward, slamming face-first into the ground, armor and all.

"What the-" she started to yell, but Zeke cut her off.

"Demon!" he roared, trying and failing to lift even one of his limbs. "Turn it off! Turn the damn thing off!"

"Got it," the AI answered, and the light quickly vanished from the hovering dropship.

Zeke felt the relief immediately as the once-intense gravity disappeared, replaced with Earth's standard pull, which felt lighter than ever before. "Well," he muttered, standing up, "that idea was a bust."

"What were you doing?" Stephanie asked as she picked herself up.

"I need more strenuous training exercises," Ezekiel answered frankly. "My old ones aren't cutting it anymore." He paused. "Clearly, playing with physics is not the answer."

She laughed lightly. "You think?"

Zeke shook his head. "Don't start."

"Sorry," she answered instantly, obviously working hard to avoid a confrontation, as Stephanie always did. A moment later, she changed the subject. "So, I'm guessing you couldn't sleep either?"

"Clearly not," he answered bitterly, both ashamed and angry at himself for his failure in the altered gravity. He was a Spartan. The Elites functioned on a planet with gravity slightly greater than Earth's…why couldn't he?

The concept was a simple one. The Brutes and Sangheili were both physically superior to a normal human being, and the Brutes themselves were – in terms of sheer brute force – stronger even than the average Spartan. Both species originated on planets with gravitational forces greater than Earth's. The Jiralhanae home planet, Doisac, had gravity more than twice that of the Earth.

Ezekiel could only conclude that, if he were to be able to live life in such forces, or at least train in them, the lessened stress in "normal" circumstances would be enough to give him a significant advantage. He could be faster, stronger…

"Do you think we'll be able to find her?" Stephanie asked suddenly, tearing the Spartan from his thoughts.

Zeke had been completely immersed in his own mind, and had barely even registered the question. "What?"

"Victoria," she clarified. "Do you think we'll find her?"

He scowled. "I'll find her."

At this, Stephanie smiled. "You miss her?" she asked, though her tone made it clear that she – at least thought – she knew the answer.

"No more than the rest of you," Zeke snarled.

"If you expect to sell that," Stephanie laughed, "you should probably at least try to believe it yourself first."

Ezekiel's features steadily grew harsher. Thinking about her was exactly what he had sought to avoid by training in the caves. It was the last thing he needed.

"I need to get Demon," he said, standing up and looking Stephanie in the eye to make sure she was buying it. "I'm going to bed."

"Probably a good choice," she said kindly.

"Demon," he said loudly, "turn on the lift. I'm coming in."

The purple light from earlier reappeared, and Ezekiel very cautiously put one hand inside, half-expecting the increased force to pull his arm down with enough force to tear it from its socket.

But it didn't. Instead, his hand felt lighter, and he stepped fully into the lift, floating higher until he was fully inside the Phantom.

"Shut it down." He said quietly.

"What for?" the AI asked.

"Just do it."

Demon obliged, and the lift disappeared. Ezekiel walked over to his MJOLNIR armor, preparing to suit up for the long night ahead.

"Hey!" Stephanie shouted after several seconds of silence. "What are you doing in there?"

"Let's get outta here." Zeke said quietly.

"Where to?" the AI asked without an ounce of concern or surprise.

"Mahé," Ezekiel said bitterly. "Take us to Mahé."

Demon didn't answer, but Zeke felt the Phantom lift higher into the air – well out of Stephanie's reach – and watched as the cargo bay sealed shut. Outside it, he could hear the female Spartan shouting, and he knew it'd be only a few minutes before she inevitably ran to Samuel.

_Not that it matters,_ he thought. _I'll be long gone by the time she gets there._

"It's a short flight to Mahé," Demon said.

"Get there as fast as possible," Zeke answered. "Gravemind, I doubt, is patrolling a radioactive crater very thoroughly. And the satellites just passed over us less than an hour ago, so we've got plenty of time."

"Okay," the AI said. "Then we're off."

* * *

Stephanie could only stand there, watching with her mouth half-open, eyes full of disbelief, as the Phantom lifted higher off the ground, then abruptly took off, flying around her and soaring out of the cave, out into the night and plunging the cavern into total darkness. In seconds, she had gone from thinking that Ezekiel – finally – was allowing himself to relax and to try and be a team-player…

"To knowing that he's still doing whatever he wants, whenever the Hell he wants to do it!" she finished the thought aloud, shaking her head angrily. Truthfully, she should have known. It was Zeke! Why did she believe for one second that he would call his training quits and go to bed?

Now she had no choice: she had to hightail it back to the Prowler, wake Samuel, and inform him that the Phantom was just stolen…by one of their own.

"Great," she snapped, turning and sprinting through the dark cave tunnels. Her night-vision was only remotely helpful in the pitch-darkness, as the green coloring – to Stephanie – was only one step above total darkness. She nearly cracked her head as she rounded the last corner, refusing to slow down even slightly.

She had to reach Samuel, to tell him that Ezekiel, in his infinite arrogance, had just snatched the Phantom and taken it to…

Where was he taking it? Stephanie didn't know. Mahé? That was the logical answer. But why? There was nothing there anymore except ash and radiation.

Stephanie sighed loudly. "Thanks a lot," she said sarcastically, running through the jungle, straight for the Prowler as she contemplated how she would tell Sam.

* * *

"I wish you could come with us," Landon said quietly, careful to keep his voice low enough that Jason wouldn't hear it. He was standing completely still in one corner of the room, watching his teammate's harsh breaths as he worked to stay alive even in his sleep.

_Why did you have to go and push me?_ He wondered. _Why couldn't you have just let me be the one to fight them or, better yet, why couldn't you have just come with me? We could've stayed ahead of them, and Sam wasn't far-_

The door slid open quietly.

"Landon?" Sam's voice was almost a whisper.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Come out here for a minute."

Landon obliged, following the larger Spartan through the door and listening to it close behind them. In the middle of the hall, Samuel stopped, turning around to face him.

"You okay?" he asked.

Landon nodded, not understanding the point of the discussion. "Fine," he answered. "Why?"

Samuel smiled. "I just need to make sure that everyone's ready to go here in a couple of days." He paused. "I had Gael dig deeper into the satellite codes, and we got some better information on the ships that the Flood are building."

"We have to leave, don't we?" Landon asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"No," the other Spartan answered, surprising him. "Not yet. In fact, we've got an extra day. That gives everyone three days, counting today, to get ready. I know that you'll be spending most of yours watching Jason, and I understand that, but I want you to take at least the last day for yourself. I expect that you'll come see him, but leave yourself time to sleep, to eat, to train…whatever." He paused, taking a breath. "Just make sure your head's in the game before we leave, okay?"

Landon smiled at the thought of another day. "Absolutely," he said, nodding.

"Great," Sam answered. Then he glanced to the door they'd just come through. "How's he doing?"

Landon shrugged. "Better."

"Maybe he'll be up to par before we're done with this mission after all, then?" Sam asked with an optimistic smile.

At this, the biomechanical Spartan grinned, even though he wasn't sure he believed it. "Man," he said, "I hope so."

"We've never-"

"Damn it, Sam!" Blaine's voice suddenly reverberated throughout the hallway, stopping the conversation dead. Landon turned to see him stepping out of the pressurization chamber. "He's done it again!"

"What?" Samuel asked, apparently completely lost. "Who?"

"Zeke, that's who!" the biomechanical Spartan roared as Stephanie trailed in behind him, anxiety gripping her features.

"Zeke took the Phantom," she said. "I'm sorry! I tried to stop him, but he-"

"It's fine." Samuel said casually, cutting her off.

"It's fine?" Blaine asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Samuel nodded. "I'll talk to him when he gets back." He shrugged. "Nothing to be done about it now, except hope and pray that he makes it back."

"But what if-"

"Now that I think about it," Samuel started again, "where have you two been?"

"I was on the beach," Stephanie answered immediately, clearly afraid that he might be demanding a solid explanation. "Then I passed by the cavern where the Phantom is stored, and I saw a light, so I-"

"I got it," Sam said with a wave of his hand. "I was just curious. You guys really need to relax."

"What about the Phantom?" Blaine asked. His tone was calm now, and it made the issue of the alien dropship sound like more of a technicality than anything.

"Zeke'll bring it back." The leading Spartan said confidently. "And then we'll have a nice, civilized discussion, as I break his legs." He smiled and paused as if to survey the reactions. "That what you wanted to hear?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Blaine answered.

"Well, that is the plan…except for the last part. My hope is that I won't have to do that."

Blaine's answer was simple. "Damn."

"Anyway," Sam finished, "it's three in the morning and I'm beat-tired. I'd suggest sleep for the rest of you too." With that, he nodded to them all and turned away, walking slowly back to this room.

* * *

"Hitting Mahé in two," Demon's voice echoed over the speakers of the Phantom. "You sure you wanna do this?"

"Don't ask questions you know the answer to." Zeke growled, staring out the window at the darkened island. Far and wide, almost nothing remained but rubble and ash, but there were still pockets of mostly-intact structures – albeit none in the city of Victoria. Most of them were near the coasts, where tourists originally entered onto the island.

"One minute to landing," the AI said suddenly. "How do you wanna do pickup?"

"Wait on the northern edge, where the bombs had the greatest effect. Stay off the shore and stay cloaked. When you detect my tag on radar, come to the edge and pick me up. Don't use the lift, and don't uncloak." He paused. "I'll find you."

"Understood," Demon answered. "I don't suppose it would've just been easier to take Stephanie and let her pilot this thing?"

"I'm not dragging Stephanie into my personal life." Zeke said bitterly.

"This is your personal life?" Demon asked in disbelief. The AI let out a long, slow whistle, then finished, "you need to get out more."

"Just drop me off on the coast, up there," Ezekiel said, ignoring the quip and changing the subject. "I'll be back in a few hours, unless something changes."

"Sounds good," the AI answered calmly. "You know the rules: stay in the yard, no candy from strangers…oh yeah, and don't get killed."

Zeke rolled his eyes. "Funny." He watched as the cargo bay opened beneath him, took a deep breath, and jumped out.

* * *

Blaine rolled his eyes as he watched Landon step back into Jason's room and close the door behind him once again, disappearing – presumably – for the remainder of the night.

"What's the point?" he asked aloud, though quietly and to no one in particular. Still, Stephanie apparently felt obliged to answer.

"He just wants to be there if something happens." She said.

"Well, yeah," Blaine answered bluntly, "but what's the point? What will happen, will happen, regardless of whether or not he's standing over him. The time he's wasting in there could be spent working, training, or resting, for God's sake." He scowled. "He'll be under par when we leave here, and we need everyone at full strength."

"He'll be fine," she answered rather confidently. "I'm sure Sam's got plans to make sure he gets his mind straight before we leave."

Blaine shook his head. "Your overwhelming faith in Samuel is touching," he said, "and it's not misplaced…but you need to realize that even our valiant leader has his limits." He paused. "In particular, you need to realize that we need a full team for the mission he's proposed, and we don't have one. We're playing with a major handicap, and the Flood aren't about to ease up on us out of sportsmanship."

"Have a little faith." She laughed calmly. "You're right: whatever happens, will happen, period. But we've already agreed to follow Samuel, so I choose to put my trust in his judgment." She smiled brightly. "Has he ever given us reason not to?"

At this, Blaine scoffed lightly. "No," he said, "I suppose not."

* * *

"Is this the best your corpses can do?" Ezekiel shouted as another of the miserable Combat Forms hit the ground in ribbons. There had been several dozen so far, and the hapless, rotting corpses had yet to lay a finger on him. "I came here for a challenge!"

As if on cue, another group of lightly-armed Combat Forms gathered around him from the rubble that was once the city of Victoria. They spread out, eyeing him carefully and raising their weapons.

"Fine with me," Zeke snapped. "If your goal is to lose as many of your worthless monsters as possible without my breaking a sweat, then this is the way to go."

No sounds were made, but every Flood-infected body around him crouched slightly, preparing for the strike that Ezekiel somehow knew wasn't coming. No, Gravemind was smart enough to know that the small number of forces he had wasn't enough; he'd need something more if he wanted to damage the Spartan.

"So be it, Spartan," the ever-familiar voice echoed inside Ezekiel's mind. "If it's a challenge you require," Gravemind paused for effect, but the Spartan cut him off.

"Spare me the rhythmic monologue," he growled. "Send your beasts, if you think they can do better than these fools." He motioned to the mangled bodies on the ground around him.

Gravemind said nothing more, but the Combat Forms backed up a few paces, and Ezekiel suddenly felt the ground begin to shake as footsteps echoed around him. The ruins of structures quaked as something slammed into the ground a mere forty yards behind him-

And Zeke only grinned. This was exactly the welcome he'd been looking for.

"Juggernaut," he whispered with a smile, turning his back on the Combat Forms to face the creature behind him.

As expected, the Pure Form was standing there, standing eighteen feet tall and swinging tentacles that were easily as long.

"Only one?" he asked with a smirk. "I'm insulted."

Gravemind's response took the form of a tentacle cutting through the air, surging toward the Spartan like an arrow-

Zeke jumped backwards just in time, and the pointed limb plunged more than two feet into the rocky ground with what seemed like no effort at all. Before he could even recover, the Juggernaut yanked it back up, but pulled part of the landscape with it, tearing the very ground that Ezekiel was standing on up from underneath him.

And as he stumbled, the second tentacle whipped sideways, crashing into his ribcage and lifting him off the ground. His body soared through the air until gravity took over, and he crashed into a pile of rubble that had once been an industrial building.

As he got up, he couldn't help but smile against the crushing pain in his abdomen. And in seconds, the smile gave way to a full-fledged laugh that continued for several moments.

Finally, when he'd calmed, Ezekiel looked up at the towering creature looming over him. "Is that all you've got?" he asked with a grin.

And, to his surprise, Gravemind answered. "You seem empowered, Spartan." The Flood form said. "Something's changed in you." As usual, the monster paused, then continued, "is this your old pride returning?" Gravemind's terrible laugh reverberated inside his mind. "Or is this something new?"

Ezekiel laughed again. This was Gravemind, the same creature that had exercised a constant mental and emotional torment on him for what seemed like eons. And now? After Samuel's news of Victoria's existence? The great power that the creature had wielded over him? Gone. Vanished.

Destroyed.

"You're a pretty good liar." Zeke quipped. "You've kept up the con about Vic without a single fault, up 'til now."

"Con?" the monster asked with an air of confusion.

Ezekiel rolled his eyes. "Don't insult me by feigning ignorance. Samuel was kind enough to fill me in." He paused. "You never killed Victoria Small." He smiled. "And neither did I."

The voice came again, this time with a tone of understanding. "I see, Spartan. So you now know the truth about the past." Again, the laugh interrupted the rhyme, piercing the soldier's head and echoing all throughout his mind. "And now you wish to save her? And to save yourself, at last?"

Zeke couldn't help but grin at the last point. What could he say? That was the goal. "Pretty close." He growled.

"Did it ever occur to you that she could already be in my control?"

"It did." The Spartan admitted. "But you showed us your hand. You don't get to play that game with me anymore." This time it was Zeke who laughed. "For starters, if you had her, you'd have used her to push me over the edge a long time ago. And, failing that, if you knew where she was, you wouldn't have fallen for Samuel's little ploy, and we'd have encountered every Flood form on the planet when the others landed."

"And you think you're forgiven?" Gravemind asked, condescension lacing his words.

"It was a shell," Zeke growled. "Nothing more, nothing less. You made it into the sin that it was by playing on a lie. The only true faults here are yours and those of ONI, who I'll deal with as soon as I've finished with you."

"How quickly you forget. How easily you shift the blame. You knew nothing of their lie, yet you killed her all the same!"

"Nice try." Ezekiel answered, shaken slightly by the statement but refusing to let it show in his demeanor. "You don't get to play mind-games with me anymore. I'm free, and I have no outstanding sin to suffer for." As stern as the words were, he honestly wasn't sure who he was trying to convince anymore: Gravemind, or himself.

"These new truths do not change the past, nor can they set you free." The Flood responded coldly, almost dismissively. "You may believe what you wish, but do not bring your lies to me."

Zeke felt himself growing steadily angrier as he considered the monster's words. There was no lie involved, except for those that he was told. "I was the only one lied to!" He shouted. "ONI pulled the strings from the start! She was nothing but a clone, a shell without a core!"

"But did you know that, when you impaled her on that blade?" Gravemind asked quizzically, and the Juggernaut's tentacle motioned to the blade on his elbow. Then, he finished with a cold, bitter laugh, "it's not about the clone you destroyed, but the soul you betrayed!"

These words were enough to shake the Spartan to the core as the repercussions began to present themselves. Unfortunately, as hard as Zeke fought to keep it from doing so, it made sense. In truth, he'd done nothing to Victoria Small, but he didn't know that…if it had been her, things would have played out exactly the same. It was only through sheer dumb luck that he was foolish enough to believe it was her in the first place-

"So you see," Gravemind continued, "your sins remain, no matter what you decide." He waited, apparently letting the information process. Then he finished with an irritating tone of righteousness, "even if you find her, your salvation will be denied."

Ezekiel hit his knees as the realization hit him, looking wide-eyed at the ground and taking deep, heaving breaths as his palms pressed into the ground under him. It didn't matter what he did. There was no point in any of it.

He was doomed.

Damned.

He may not have killed her physical body, but that wasn't because of any good deed of his own; it was simply due to ONI's lies and his own immeasurable incompetence. In his eyes, she was dead, and it was his fault. Even if he could find her now, did it matter? He'd already killed her. What did it matter?

A disgusting, liquid noise tore him from his thoughts as the Juggernaut before him began to fall in upon itself, losing its integrity and pooling into a pile of Flood biomass before splitting up and morphing into at more than a dozen Stalker Pure Forms.

And, without a word from Gravemind, every one of them took off, leaping into the night and disappearing into the depths of the ruined city.

Ezekiel didn't care. He'd have preferred it if they had just killed him and ended the sick game that Gravemind was playing with his head. That was the worst part of it. He knew it was all a game, all a ploy to tear his mind apart from the inside out.

And it didn't matter.

The creature still managed to get inside his thoughts and pull at the strings that stung the deepest. It somehow always found a way to locate his weakest point and tear his defenses apart.

He reared back and bunched his hands into fists before crashing them into the ground beneath him, yelling at the top of his lungs. Then he collapsed forward, putting all his weight on his left hand as he pulled the right one back and plunged it into the ground as hard as he could.

"Demon," he said in almost a whisper, taking deep breaths in an attempt to recover from his outburst. And against his will, against every ounce of determination in his body, his next words came out not as an order, not even as an impatient demand...but as a desperate plea. "Come get me."

* * *

**Author's Notes: Well, that's it for this one. I've started the next one, but I have 4 exams to study for and a paper to write this week, so it may not come out as fast as I want. Still, I'm on break as of Thursday night, so expect more from me, and HOLD ME TO IT! Spam my email, I don't care! Send threats, anything, lol (preferably not threats, but whatever works). And I apologize that you waited so long for THIS...it's not great, and I know that. But the next one...that one will be good. I promise you. So, until then: best wishes, I hope you all had a good Thanksgiving, and I hope to hear from you as soon as you realize what that random message is in your inbox about a story...on Fanfiction...? ;)**

**Take care.**

**- Raptor  
**


	10. Chapter 9: Civil War

**Author's Notes: Told you all I was gonna try to speed things up a little! Granted, not as fast as I wanted (it never is...), but still reasonably quick, I think, given the hustle and bustle of the holidays. I'm just going to hit reviews in a flash, and then we're gonna keep things moving right along (I have a lot left to do tonight, unfortunately, lol).**

**OH, and I PROMISE that this chapter is better than the last one. At least, I thought so.  
**

**REVIEWS:**

**Drake S. Hellion: haha! You wouldn't believe the grin on MY face when I finally posted that chapter and got it out of my system. And yes, Gravemind is a professional when it comes to the pulling of emotional and mental strings...and he's far from finished in this book. A couple of people liked the "physics" comment. Not sure why it came across so well, but I'm certainly happy that it did. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! It's much better than the last, I think (at least, from a writer's standpoint). Thanks very much!**

**killerman83ca: lol, yeah...he'll get a talking-to...sort of. You'll just have to read and find out exactly what goes on. That being said, this chapter should be fun for anyone reading. Hopefully you agree. And don't worry: no matter how long it takes...I WILL finish this freakin' book, lol. Thanks!**

**FireWolfFred: Hey! Yeah, I feel like Zeke's getting a lot of attention at the moment (I'm biased, so I can't help it), but I do hope to get the others to be more fully realized in time (particularly a couple of them that have been denied what they're due). And don't worry: ONI will get theirs before it's over. I couldn't do an entire story based only on Flood, lol. Merry belated Christmas to you, and enjoy what's to come! Thank you!**

**Barca: lol...I must agree. It was stupidly long. I hope to never have that again. As for the chapter itself: I know seeing Zeke caught up as he is is strange, but I promise everyone that, given a little rope, I'll explain it better in time (or, rather, he will). You're right in that he is a soldier and he should be able to come to grips with it...he just can't. Like I said, there's a reason. It'll just take me several chapters to explain. And yep, Sam's religious. He's never out-and-out prayed before (unless you count his very short parts in The Last Stand), but it has been mentioned a few times along the way. I hope to be able to insert the Elites into the story at some point, but I don't know yet how it will work with my current plans. Right now, count about 80-percent chance of seeing them somewhere along the way. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like the chapter!**

**The Elven-Spear: lol, that's an interesting conclusion, and I could see, to an extent, where it would come from...but nope. For starters, Spartans are implanted with a catalytic growth hormone that suppresses their sex-drives, so conventional "love" is denied to them as a whole. The best you might see is them regarding one another as "family", like Samuel does. However, if it amuses you to see that in the story, I am merely the writer. My intentions are not always the same as what a reader takes away...and I'm perfectly okay with that! Thanks, and enjoy!**

**ching965: haha, you are very welcome! I'm glad to finally have it out.  
As I mentioned to Barca, Sam's faith has been briefly mentioned a few times throughout (mostly The Last Stand), but this is the first time a prayer of this sort has ever been mentioned. It's something I considered before and never ended up doing (which will be edited in The Last Stand), and I decided now was a good time to show the deeper side of the faith.  
And as to Zeke: yeah...he hasn't learned yet that confronting Gravemind without a sturdy mental fortress is a poor choice. But I think you might be genuinely surprised by his "reaction" to it all (mostly shown in his moods). Or maybe you won't...really no way to tell.  
Thanks very much for reviewing! Hope you like what's to come!**

**RandomMan: lol, yeah, he's having a time at the moment. And keep holding out hope...he's not finished yet, I promise. Thanks!**

**xcavars: lol, you hate me? I'm hurt. ;)  
1. I am sorry to make you all wait, lol. Trust me, it wasn't what I wanted either.  
2. Zeke's not "ruined" just yet. He's showing a bit more "human" side, but trust me, he's far from destroyed. I've got two books left to finish, don't forget. :)  
And yes, this is the part where you hate me and I promise you that if you give me some rope, I won't hang myself.  
...now, please give me some rope. ;)  
Thanks a lot! Enjoy!**

**Ildina: Yeah, sorry for the wait. As I've said a couple times, I hope never to have that again (no promises, but I will try). And I hope you'll find that Zeke's cockiness, regardless of what you saw in Chapter 8, is still around and ready to meet the day. ;) Thanks!**

**Suliac Griffin: Yeah, I know! Trust me! "Masterpiece" is the polar opposite of, and does not even begin to describe, the atrocity that I posted a couple weeks ago. Alas, I needed to get it out of my system, and 8 weeks was plenty long enough. I'm glad you at least liked the Zeke VS Gravemind commentary though. That's something, right?  
Oh, and BY THE WAY: it's 2009...Not 2011...Not 2010...TWO THOUSAND AND NINE! WHAT...NOW!?!?! ;)**

**Samus 117: I'm glad you liked the last one (even if I wasn't fond of it). And your words, "calm before the storm" are a good summarizer for that. You're right about Gravemind: mental torment is as good as, or better, than outright killing (particularly when he doesn't feel the slightest bit threatened). And you WILL see Magnus...but it might be a while.  
And yes, to some extent, I do like anime. At least, I like a couple of them (really one in particular). What did you have in mind?**

**armoured-blade: Hey! Why do you think I can't get on MSN anymore? ;) JK! lol. Nah, I just got busy. Didn't check mail other than college email for what seemed like eternity. Stupid papers and projects. Anyways, I figured you might like the part with Zeke and Gravemind. I thought it was an interesting point, and not a good one for him to hear. It sets my plot up nicely for later, lol. Oh, and you are the second person to tell me they liked the "physics" line, lol.  
And expect to see more of the Spartans' methods for preparation over the course of the book. It's fun for me to write, and I think it helps with development considerably.  
Thanks much! For once, you didn't have to proof this one! ;)**

**blarg boy: Thank you, for that wonderful tidbit of information, lol.**

**DoctorG27: Yeah, I know...it's been a while, eh? And you wouldn't believe the amount of research I did on the effects of hypergravity on a human body before writing that...in theory, it would work, and the effects could be dramatic if the technology were applied correctly. I'd give it a shot in a heartbeat, lol. Thanks for reviewing!**

**The Not-So Addict: lol, you're going to apologize to me for taking a few days to review...when I took eight weeks to post? Seriously? Get out of here. lol. Just leave. ;) jk  
But onto the chapter: I'm glad you enjoyed it (it was shorter, you're correct), and I hope that you'll like this one even more (I find it much better). You'll see a few blows like the one from last chapter before the book is done...Zeke will just get a little better at dealing with them.  
Anyways, hope you had a merry Christmas! Happy holidays to you as well! Thank you!**

**Percabethfan117: Thank you very much. I appreciate the compliments, however I can't say that I liked the last chapter. I thought it was poorly done, and I intend to fix it when I have time (seems like I use those words a LOT). I wish you the best of luck on your story, and enjoy the holidays!**

**NOW, onto the chapter...which I promise is better-written than the last one!  
**

**

* * *

Chapter 9:**

– **Civil War –**

**0700 Hours - July 16, 2553**

**Silhouette Island - Sychelles Islands, East Of Africa**

"Everybody up!"

Samuel's yelling was more than enough to pull Stephanie from the peaceful slumber that had overtaken her late the night before. Sleepily, she checked the time on the digital clock near her bunk-

"Ugh!" she moaned, "it's oh-seven-hundred, Sam!"

The steel door at the far side of the room slid open, and blinding light poured in. The Spartan closed her eyes and pulled a pillow over her head.

"We've got toys to hand out," Samuel continued. "So I need everyone up." He paused, then added, "you wouldn't be tired if you'd gone to bed at eleven like I suggested last night."

"You didn't go either!" she protested.

"But I'm still up and ready," he answered. "It's not a day off, you know."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Alright," she said, smiling as the tired feeling left her and she sat up, cracking her neck as she did so. "I'm up! Let's see 'em!"

"We're meeting outside." Samuel said. "Armor up."

* * *

"These better be some kick-ass toys, to get my ass out of bed at seven in the freakin' morning. Seriously, what the Hell? The damned sun's not even out yet." Blaine's tone was tired, bitter, and irritable; clearly, he hadn't gotten much sleep.

Landon made a mental note to avoid him for the day. Even completely unarmored – which he was – Blaine was still a force to be reckoned with.

"Sam wouldn't have us all out here if they weren't." Stephanie said cheerfully, fully armored besides her helmet. Apart from Samuel, who hadn't come out yet, she seemed to be – by far – the most awake and alert. And she was certainly the happiest.

Of course, between her, Blaine, Landon, and Ze-

The thought only then crossed his mind. "Where's Zeke?"

Blaine scoffed, but said nothing.

"He's probably still out." Stephanie said.

"In the Phantom?"

She shook her head. "Samuel checked this morning. He's home. He just hasn't come back to the Prowler."

Landon shook his head. "What does he do out there?"

She shrugged.

"Okay!" Sam's voice cut the conversation short as he emerged from the Prowler carrying a large metal crate. Landon immediately noticed an enormous handle sticking up out of the top. "You guys ready for an early Christmas?"

"Damn right!" Landon said, trying to keep his mood as optimistic as possible. Jason appeared to be doing better, and his chances were improving, but it was doing very little to ease the other Spartan's nerves.

"Let's see it, Sam." Blaine said. "What's the big deal about our new toys?"

The giant Spartan shrugged lightly. "They're not all flash and bang," he said. "A few are more practical, but there are a couple of convenient little improvements."

"The suspense is killing me." Blaine growled without an ounce of enthusiasm.

"You need to sleep when we're done here," Sam said, shaking his head, "preferably before you hurt someone."

Blaine said nothing. He just kept staring forward with a hint of irritation in his eyes.

"First on the list…" Samuel began fumbling through the crate. "Well, here…we'll just hand Blaine his first and get it out of the box and out of my way." He gripped the handle that was sticking up and yanked it out-

"A Gravity Hammer?" Landon asked.

"Special issue," Sam answered, throwing the giant bludgeon to Blaine, who caught it easily in his right hand and began twirling it round and round.

"What's different from the standard?" Stephanie asked.

"Two things," Samuel said. "First: it has a special set of clamps that will draw power from the excess shield energy in your armor. Basically, it's the last hammer you'll ever need, and you shouldn't have to worry about battery life."

"Always good to hear," Blaine said, now holding it in both hands and eyeing the head of it carefully.

"Secondly," Sam continued, "the amount of power it uses per swing is much lower than the standard, so it won't need to recharge as often as a regular hammer would. In addition to that, the power exerted in each swing is adjustable. You can use as little or as much of the remaining battery as you like in one swing."

Blaine didn't answer, but began toying with some kind of system on the side of the handle.

"What else you got in there?" Landon asked.

"Nothing for you," Samuel said, looking up from the box and right at him.

"Say what?"

"Just kiddin' ya," he said lightly. "Here. Catch." With that, he pulled what appeared to be a heap of mechanical parts from the crate and promptly tossed them right at Landon-

"Hey!" he shouted, recoiling as the jumble of parts hit him with the force of a small car. "You mind toning it down?"

Samuel only laughed, digging through the crate again.

"Now what the Hell is this?" Landon asked, mostly to himself, as he tried to make heads or tails of the technology in his hands.

"It's a reverse-engineered jump-pack, similar to what the Brutes were using during the war, but about twice as efficient." Samuel said, still picking through the box. "I figure you'll be spending the most time in the air of any of us, so this gives you a good way to get in and out without a problem."

"Well, Hell, Sam," Landon answered, "anything that gets me more airtime."

"I thought you might see it that way."

"What about me?" Stephanie asked.

"Nothing too special," Samuel answered. "I've got plenty of ammunition for a pair of Brute Maulers, Fuel Rods for the trip out, and these…" He pulled out two cylindrical steel rings and tossed them to her.

"What are these for?"

"They're mounts for weapon attachments, like the Sentinel Beams that I've been using since the Flood got here."

"Okay," she said, sounding puzzled, "but what exactly are we mounting?"

"I thought you could use a little more firepower." He answered.

"Sam, you know I just love puzzles," she answered sarcastically, "but can we please skip to the details this time?" She flashed a sly smile.

"They mount miniature versions of the M7057." He said.

It took Stephanie a moment to match the identification number to a weapon, but it took Landon no time at all.

"Flamethrowers?" he asked skeptically.

Samuel nodded. "Miniature variants of the defoliant projector, one per arm. The range is cut dramatically – down to only a couple of feet – but they certainly don't lack in effectiveness, especially against the Flood. We've got extra pyrosene for them as well."

"I could get used to this." She said with a grin.

"Zeke's still not here," Landon noted. "He's gonna miss out."

"There's nothing in here for him anyway," Samuel said, glancing up for only a second.

"No early Christmas for Zeke?" Stephanie joked.

"Ezekiel Veron, on the naughty list?" Landon asked, his tone dripping with false surprise. "Never!"

Snickers and laughs erupted around him, continuing for several seconds-

Until Stephanie suddenly stopped.

"Shit," Landon said, sighing and looking at the ground. "He's standing behind me, isn't he?"

No one said anything. Blaine scoffed.

"Hi Zeke."

"Hi."

Only Zeke could make the word "hi" into a threat.

"Just talking about you-"

"I heard."

More threats.

Thankfully, Samuel bailed him out before he could dig himself deeper. "Sorry they didn't really send anything for you, but I figured you wouldn't mind."

Landon turned around to see that Zeke had stepped off to the side. The other Spartan was completely unarmored, but his shirt and shorts were ripped, tattered and, in a few places, bloodstained.

"I've got what I need." He answered coldly. "I'm just here for a bite."

"Take what you want," Sam said.

"He always does." Blaine muttered.

Surprisingly, Ezekiel ignored that particular jab, and stepped without a word into the Prowler.

Landon sighed loudly. "Phew," he said, relieved. "Thanks for that."

Samuel nodded. "No problem. He's been in a foul mood lately."

"If by lately, you mean since we've known him, then yes." Blaine said.

"Forget about him." Sam said. "Let's go give that hammer a test-run. We'll see if we can figure out how the thing works."

Blaine nodded. "Fair enough."

Landon saw Samuel turn to face him. "You checking on Jason?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"Then what?"

Landon shrugged. "I don't know." He lied. "Just hang around and relax. Maybe test this jump-pack out."

In truth, however, he had no intentions of testing the jump-pack just yet. He would go check on Jason, but then he had other plans. They included finding Ezekiel Veron and setting the record straight.

In Landon's mind, they both still had a fair amount to apologize for.

"Any tests for mine?" Stephanie asked, bringing the other Spartan back to reality.

"Well," Sam shifted uncomfortably, "I feel that testing your particular weapons on an island packed with vegetation that hasn't had a good rain in months is a bad idea." He paused. "I could be wrong…but I doubt it."

Stephanie shrugged. "Probably right," she said.

* * *

"How you doing, Zeke?" Joseph Wallace asked as the unarmored Spartan entered the Prowler. As usual, the former game warden was a little too cheery for Zeke's liking.

"Fine," he growled. "I'm just here for a bite to eat."

"Not sticking around?" Wallace joked. "I'm disappointed!"

Ezekiel scowled, ignoring the man and moving down the hall, toward the Spartans' miserable excuse for a kitchen. What had once likely been a relatively-advanced food preparation area had been reduced to – for all intents and purposes – a can opener and a stack of plates.

"Need to talk Stephanie into cooking again," the Spartan said quietly, looking around for food that hadn't yet gone bad. He had just started rifling through a large box when heavy footsteps attracted his attention.

And they weren't just heavy.

They were metallic.

"Oh, great," he growled.

"Zeke!"

Landon.

"Damn it." He muttered before turning around. "What?"

"Do me a favor," the other Spartan said. "Stay there for just a minute. I wanna talk to you, but I gotta check on Jason first."

Ezekiel was surprised, but kept it hidden. "Sure thing," he lied with practiced ease.

"Great! Just one second!" Landon seemed genuinely excited when he rushed from the kitchen doorway to go and see Jason.

And as soon as he'd gone, Ezekiel set the can down and calmly began walking toward the Prowler's exit.

* * *

Blaine continued to test the balance of the UNSC-made Gravity Hammer, twirling it effortlessly in his hand as he and Samuel trekked further into the wooded parts of Silhouette. The other Spartan seemed rushed, almost anxious, to get to wherever it was that they were headed.

It was strange for Sam.

"You okay back there?" The cybernetic Spartan asked, stopping and turning around.

"Yeah," Samuel answered, "I'm fine." He shrugged. "I'm just ready to get this show on the road. Maybe three days of break-time was too long."

Blaine nodded. "Damn right it was," he said. "We should be in L.A. by now, not screwing off here, wasting time and letting the Flood amass their forces." He gripped the bottom of the hammer in his right hand and swung it hard into a tree only a few feet to his right.

CRACK!

The small, thin tree split straight down the center as an expanding sphere of gravity consumed its trunk and sent pieces of wood splintering in every direction.

Blaine lifted the bludgeon up to eye-level and carefully examined the titanium head, admiring the intricate details that were carved into the metal on one side, and the miniature blade that had been crafted on the other. It was just like a regular Gravity Hammer…

Only better.

"Not bad, Sam." Blaine mused, looking at the energy status on the weapon and noting that the hammer was currently using only two-percent of its maximum battery per hit. That was a fifth of what a swing would use in a standard hammer, and the effects of his last shot were roughly the same.

"Turn it up," the gigantic Spartan answered. "See how you like it."

Blaine grinned, manually changing the power settings on the hammer via a small, delicate-looking touch-screen near the bottom of the handle. When he had finished altering the settings, a piece of solid titanium slid around from inside the handle, covering the screen.

"Just don't hurt yourself." Sam said as Blaine reared back with the hammer. "Or me, for that matter!" He took a pair of giant steps backwards.

"Here goes!" Blaine shouted, using both hands to hold the bludgeon on his right side with the head somewhere several feet behind him. He turned hard to the left and sent the hammer crashing into a tree roughly three times the size of the last one-

CRASH!

Blaine was knocked backwards by the expelled energy as it swelled from the head and consumed everything that happened to be too close. The trunk of the tree where the hammer connected had all but disintegrated on contact, and the stump had been splintered and indented almost a foot into the dirt. In addition, every bit of the tree above the point of impact was sent soaring into the air, flipping end-over-end until it crashed into the ground somewhere deeper in the forest.

"Jeez!" Samuel shouted. "You wanna turn that down a little?"

Blaine shrugged, ignoring the plea and grinning widely. "I think I'm gonna like this thing, Sam."

* * *

"Damn it, Zeke." Landon whispered under his breath as he continued sprinting through the woods, toward the cave that he knew the other Spartan was probably already at.

He'd asked him to stay behind, just for a minute. That was all. It wasn't a huge request. And then, to add even more insult, the other Spartan actually agreed to his request before ditching him and leaving the Prowler without a word.

"You can be a real ass sometimes," he growled, shaking his head. "I just wish-"

He stopped.

Up ahead, more than a hundred yards away, was a man walking calmly through the woods with his back to Landon. His hands were in his pockets, and his shirt was ripped in three places.

Zeke.

"Ezekiel!" Landon shouted, speeding up to catch him. "Hey! Zeke!"

The Spartan turned around abruptly. For a split second, Landon was sure that he was going to take off running, but Ezekiel controlled the impulse, because he just stood there, glaring at the incoming soldier until he was within talking distance.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"I just wanted to talk to you." Landon said as he slowed to a stop several feet away.

Ezekiel was a stickler for personal space.

"We have nothing to talk about." He turned to walk away.

"Look," Landon said, taking a step and stopping him. "I know you're upset. I know that, with the news about Vic-"

"Let me stop you there." Zeke interrupted. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about what happened, and I want to help you to get her back." Landon said. "I just wanted to talk about-"

"I'm not talking to you about Jason." Zeke interrupted.

The comment deeply confused Landon. "I was talking about Victoria-"

"And you're going to use Victoria as a window to get into a talk about Jason." Zeke finished. "And I told you: I'm not interested. Take a hike."

"Why not?" Landon asked, now slightly angry. It was true: he did want to talk about Jason. Why shouldn't they? Ezekiel shot him. "Why can't we-"

"Look." Zeke growled, stopping him. "Either you agree with the decision I made and you're here to thank me…or you don't, and you're here to bitch." He paused. "Either way, not interested." He turned around again, but Landon grabbed his arm-

Zeke spun around in a flash, grabbing the extended arm and twisting it forward until the palm faced the sky. Then he put his free hand underneath the elbow, silently threatening to break the limb at the joint.

The other Spartan's words were cold and menacing. "Go. Away."

He let go, and Landon jerked back, but was undeterred. "You're not as tough as you think you are." He snapped.

Zeke scoffed. "If you believe that, then you are as dumb as you look. Maybe you were right." He paused, apparently gauging Landon's reaction. "Maybe it should've been you in that window."

These words were enough to shatter Landon's composure as the memory of watching Jason be consumed by the horde of undead forms consumed his conscious thought. He felt the vertigo of falling out the window and the impact with the ground that rattled the street. He heard the screams of the Flood as they breached the room and stole his best friend-

"At least Jason wasn't completely useless." Zeke added. "But no, he almost went out, trying to save your worthless hide. And for what?" The other Spartan shook his head bitterly. "For what?"

Landon couldn't even find the breath to speak, much less the words themselves. All he could hear were Ezekiel's paralyzing statements that completely destroyed his self-worth. Was he really so useless? Did every Spartan see him this way, or was it just Ezekiel being his typical self? He'd already concluded that it should have been him in that window, because Jason would be more useful in-

"Oh well," Zeke finished. "I guess he found the perfect way to get out of the war without looking like a weakling. The coward's way out without all the insults."

This snapped Landon back to reality in an instant. "What did you say?" he asked, genuinely wondering if he had only heard the words in his own head.

Ezekiel only glared at him, grinning slightly.

Landon knew immediately that the other Spartan was trying to provoke him into a fight he couldn't win. He could feel it in Ezekiel's tone and his stance. He was looking for someone to beat on.

But did it matter? Could he let him talk about Jason that way, the man that had been willing to save Landon's life at the price of losing his own?

"You have no right to talk about him like that." Landon growled. "He put his life on the line for mine!"

"That makes him foolish. Nothing more."

Landon couldn't take it anymore. It took all the self-control he had to pull his punch…but even that was only enough to slow it down. Almost against his own will, he reared back with his right hand and lashed out at the smaller Spartan-

SLAM!

His fist connected with Zeke's jaw hard enough to send the smaller Spartan stumbling backwards, with his head turned tightly to the side.

Landon was still trying to calm his anger when the other Spartan slowly righted himself and turned his head forward. He touched his mouth with his hand and glanced casually at the blood that had gathered there. Then, without a word, he calmly turned sideways and spat onto the dirt.

"That was your free shot." He said coldly.

For reasons that Landon didn't fully understand, this comment only served to enrage him further, and he lashed out again, this time with the other hand-

He caught nothing but air as Ezekiel smoothly sidestepped.

Landon gritted his teeth and struck again-

And got the same result.

"Stop embarrassing yourself." Zeke said, visibly working to suppress laughter. "You're not a physical fighter. Maybe against Brutes and Grunts, but not against another Spartan. Blaine's a fighter. Vic was a fighter. Even Sam's a fighter when he has to be." He paused. "But not you."

Landon knew better, but he couldn't help himself. He threw another punch, and when it missed, he lashed out with his right leg, lifting it up and spinning sideways-

Zeke ducked low and spun as well, and Landon felt his other leg be taken out from under him. A second later, he was flat on his ass, staring up at the other Spartan.

"Don't insult me by getting up." He said. "Just stay on the ground, where you belong."

Landon scrambled to his feet and started swinging again. His skills weren't clouded. He was fighting well, even for a Spartan…but it didn't matter. Ezekiel, like Victoria, was meant for speed, and no biomechanical super-soldier was going to catch him off-guard. Landon hit air again and again, and was only vaguely aware as the other Spartan began to move to the side-

SLAM!

Landon felt the other Spartan's knee crash into his stomach, and he doubled over, holding his abdomen in both hands, coughing hard and struggling not to fall to his knees in front of the already-arrogant prick beside him.

"Remember this lesson later," Zeke said, and Landon watched out of the corner of his eye as the other Spartan clasped his hands together and lifted them high into the air.

The biomechanical soldier knew the shot was coming even before he felt the titanium-reinforced hands crash into his spinal cord at the top of his back, and he was unconscious before his face hit the dirt.

* * *

Samuel cracked the door to Jason's room, only to see the injured Spartan sleeping soundly in his bed. Surprisingly, Landon was nowhere to be found.

"Where is he?" Sam asked aloud. He'd checked every common hangout for the biomechanical soldier now, including the kitchen and the Spartans' poor excuse for a weight-room. The leading Spartan sighed loudly. "I can't find him anywhere."

"Who's that?" Joseph Wallace asked as he stopped a few feet behind Sam in the hallway.

Samuel turned around quickly. "Landon," he clarified. "Have you seen him?"

Joseph nodded to the Prowler's exit. "Chased after Zeke about an hour ago," he answered. "Damned if I know why. I wouldn't chase that guy if somebody paid me."

Samuel put his right hand to his temple, shaking his head slowly. He had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it was almost always an accurate sign of trouble.

"Crap."

* * *

"I still don't see why I can't get an Assault Cannon," Stephanie joked as she and Blaine continued their journey to find a bigger tree for the hammer-wielding Spartan to smash. "His arms aren't that much bigger than mine!"

Blaine laughed at the comment before motioning to his own forearms. "If anyone gets implanted guns," he said with a grin, "it damn-sure better be me. You know what I could do with a pair of HEAT rockets set right in there-"

He stopped abruptly, squinting as he looked straight passed Stephanie and into the woods behind her.

"What is it?" Stephanie asked, turning and straightening up to see what he was looking at. At first, she didn't notice it, but within a few seconds, the shape in the middle of the path that ran parallel to their own caught her attention. "Oh my God! Is that-"  
"Landon!" Blaine shouted, pushing passed her and through the foliage. She was right behind him when he reached the other cybernetic Spartan.

"Landon," she said, lifting his upper-body in her arms. "Landon, wake up!"

It took what felt like eternity but, slowly, painfully, the Spartan's eyes began to flutter open as his consciousness returned to him. A second later, he sat up abruptly.

"Oh, Hell!" he moaned, holding his head. "Damn it."

"What happened to you?"  
"What do you think?" he asked cynically. "I got my ass kicked."

"Not the Flood," Blaine growled.

"Shit, no!" Landon answered angrily. "Zeke!"

"Ezekiel did this?" Stephanie asked, her voice riddled with disbelief. "Why? What happened?"

Landon shook his head. "My fault," he said bitterly. "I let him provoke me into a fight. I knew what he was doing, and I let him do it anyway. Stupid-ass…"

"That doesn't mean shit." Blaine snarled. "Being able to play mind-games doesn't give him the right to do whatever the Hell he wants. I'm sick and tired of this bullshit." He turned and began to stalk down the path.

"Hey!" Stephanie shouted. "We have to help Landon get back to the Prowler! Blaine! Hey!"

Blaine didn't answer. He just kept walking, oblivious.

"Where are you going?"

The biomechanical Spartan didn't even turn around when he answered her.

"To teach Zeke some manners."

"Be careful!" Landon shouted. "He's not much for warm-ups!"

"No offense, Landon," Blaine yelled back, still without turning around, "but you're much more suited to a cockpit than a sparring ring. Just let me handle it."

"You're no faster than I am!" He shouted back, obviously insulted. "I couldn't lay a finger on him! What do you think you're gonna do any different than I did?"

At this, Blaine finally stopped and turned around to face them. "I'm gonna kick his scrawny ass."

* * *

"You gonna be able to keep up this pace?" Demon's voice came from the Phantom's speakers and echoed around the cavern.

"Did I ask for your input?" Zeke growled, continuing his pushups as the purple light from the gravity lift surrounded him. He'd had the AI turn the intensity down slightly, but his body still felt like it weighed a ton.

And that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part of the whole ordeal was that his senses were not accustomed to the greater gravity, and every time he moved vertically, even if it was only a handful of inches for a pushup, his vision blurred and a migraine worked its way into his skull.

"Just thought I'd ask," the AI said defensively. "What's got you so pissed off?"

"None of your concern," Zeke answered. "Now leave me alo-"

"Zeke!"

Blaine's voice reverberated around the cave like thunder, and Ezekiel knew immediately that the cybernetic Spartan must have stumbled upon Landon's unconscious form in the woods. That meant that-

"Zeke! Get your ass out here!"

He was pissed.

"Just what I need," Ezekiel growled, "more distractions." He sighed. "Turn it off, Demon."

The AI complied, and the field of altered gravity disappeared. Ezekiel promptly stood up and – still unarmored – began walking toward the tunnel that would take him out of the cave.

"Come on!" Demon shouted behind him. "Don't I get to watch?"

Zeke ignored him, rounding the corner and walking in total silence as Blaine shouted again. His deafening roar echoed through the tunnel, and Ezekiel grimaced and he was sure his ears would bleed if the Spartan yelled again.

After almost another full minute, he came to the sunlit exit of the cave and – as expected – a very angry biomechanical super-soldier, standing in a t-shirt and khaki shorts.

"What?" Zeke growled.

"You know what." Blaine snapped back.

Ezekiel rolled his eyes. "Let me guess: you're pissed at me too." He shook his head. "Landon got a free punch. You want one too? Will that make you feel better? Go ahead! Take your shot!"

"Careful." Blaine snarled, his tone dark. "Unlike Landon, I only need **one**." He brought his right hand up, raising his index finger for emphasis.

"Just because you can intimidate the children," Zeke said with a grin, referring to the non-Spartans in the Prowler, "don't expect me to tremble."

"Oh, I don't expect you to be afraid. But that's okay. I didn't come here to scare you."

"No?"

Blaine shook his head, still without a ghost of a smile on his face. He was dead-serious. "I came here to kick your worthless ass and teach you a little lesson in respect for your teammates."

Ezekiel didn't even try to conceal the cool laughter that answered the Spartan's statement. "You're good, Blaine." He said. "But you're a biomech. Landon couldn't touch me. What makes you think you can?"

"I know you better than Landon." He answered puzzlingly.

"So?"

At this, Blaine grinned. "Try me and find out for yourself."

Zeke shrugged. "You want a war? That's fine." He smiled. "But you'll have to throw the first punch, that way Sam will stay off my ass."

The opposing Spartan cocked his head at the statement, staring forward as if he were trying to make up his mind.

"Well?" Zeke asked.

Blaine's answer came in the form of a lunge and a right hook-

Both of which were easily ducked under, and Ezekiel lashed out with his own strike, hitting the other Spartan hard in the kidney.

"Shit!" Blaine cursed, stumbling back and holding his side.

"Told you," Zeke mocked, "too slow." He lunged forward, and Blaine swung again-

But again, he missed. Ezekiel dodged to the left and struck him open-handed at the top of his back, barely jumping in time to avoid a retaliatory swing.

"Damn you," Blaine cursed, turning around to face his opponent.

Zeke smiled wide, jumping up and down casually with his fists raised to his chest, signaling to the other Spartan that he was just warming up.

"You're slower than Landon." He mused.

Blaine said nothing, but his glare told Ezekiel exactly what he was thinking.

"Give up yet?"

"You're a little bitch." He answered. "And I don't care how fast you are. You still don't fight worth a damn."

Zeke felt his face shift as anger crept into his mind. He ran forward and dodged another strike, punching the other Spartan in the stomach before turning on his left foot and sending a strike into Blaine's kidney from his right-

And the tables turned.

* * *

"Uh-oh," Blaine laughed, holding the smaller Spartan's ankle in his left hand. The strike was a good one, there was no denying that. But Ezekiel got too comfortable. He let Blaine see the move he was about to make, and the biomechanical Spartan simply pushed through the minor pain and grabbed the other soldier's leg the moment the shot connected.

"What the-" Zeke started, both his voice and face riddled with disbelief.

"I'm biomechanical, dumb-shit." Blaine growled. "Just because you hit me and I say "ow" does not mean that it actually hurt." He paused, smiling. "Now, I think a little payback is in order."

SLAM!

Without letting go of the ankle, he smashed his right fist into Ezekiel's stomach, all but burying it there and listening to the other Spartan coughing violently as he held his abdomen in his arms.

As the other Spartan worked to recover his breath, Blaine grabbed the ankle with his other hand and tightened his grip. "Speed doesn't mean much when you can't get away, does it?"

Before Zeke could answer, Blaine lifted both hands above his head, carrying the smaller Spartan with them as he spun around and brought them down in a rush, slamming Ezekiel into the dirt facing the sky.

"Aw, what's wrong Zeke?" He asked, gripping the other Spartan's shirt collar and pulling him up a couple of feet. When he was high enough, Blaine reared back with his free hand and hammer-punched the smaller soldier right in the face, sending him crashing into the dirt again, gasping for breath.

"Good thing that jaw of yours is reinforced, huh?" Blaine mocked.

Zeke didn't answer. He lied there for several seconds, coughing and spitting up blood as he braced himself on his elbows and tried to get up.

"Here," Blaine said, "let me help you-"

He was taken by surprise as not one, but both of Ezekiel's heels crashed into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards before falling over.

"Little prick," Blaine said, grinning slightly. Even after taking a hit, he felt pretty good. No matter what happened now, he'd made his point. He stood up and turned slowly.

Ezekiel was already on his feet, and he glared straight at Blaine as he indifferently – almost casually – spat a mouthful of blood onto the dirt. "At least babysitting hasn't made you too soft."

Blaine's eyes narrowed. "You left me to do it on my own. We're a team. Not that that ever mattered to you." He gritted his teeth. "Sam might want you for this mission, but not even he trusts you. You've always been an ass, but I used to know that you'd put your life on the line for us if you had to." He shook his head. "Those days are over."

Ezekiel, for the first time in as long as Blaine could remember, seemed genuinely shocked by the statement. He stood there, staring, for almost a full minute before speaking again.

"I didn't leave you to do anything you couldn't deal with." He said, his tone still bitter. "And I already told Samuel: the Flood have to go. Finding Victoria is still my main objective, but I'll be damned if I watch these bastards make it off-planet."

Blaine grinned. "No one doubts that you hate the Flood, Zeke. What they doubt is that you hate anyone else any less."

"That's asinine." Ezekiel answered coldly. "I don't-"

"You knocked Landon unconscious!"

"He struck first!"

"Did he?" Now Blaine was calm, and Ezekiel was the one that was clearly off.

"Yes. He did."

"Why?"

Zeke scoffed. "Fine," he admitted, "I wanted a sparring partner, so I pissed him off. I didn't do any permanent damage. The temporary damage will hurt like Hell, but he'll be fine in a day."

"That's not the point." Blaine answered. "You need to get your mind back where it belongs and remember who your friends are. We don't need you if you're not in this to win it-"

"Of course I'm in it to-"

"With us," Blaine finished, "if you're not in it to win it…with us."

And he turned around, grabbing his Gravity Hammer from the base of a nearby tree and walking back toward the Prowler.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Samuel asked, looking Landon over to check for additional bruises besides the most obvious one.

"I'm fine." He answered crossly. "Zeke just surprised me; that's all. He's not strong enough to really hurt me."

Stephanie suppressed a smile. The other Spartan was deeply offended by Ezekiel's attack, and not even by the assault itself, but by the notion that it had proven him inferior in some way to the opposing soldier. It was sad.

But his reaction, no matter how sad the situation was…that was hilarious.

"I could've taken him," he maintained, "if I'd wanted to. I just didn't strike hard because he wasn't armored and-"

"I know, Landon." Samuel said, looking at the soldier's back. A second later, he smiled and shook his head. "No major damage. You should be fine in a day or so."

"I'm fine now," Landon insisted. "He hits like a girl."

"Who does?" Zeke seemed to materialize from nowhere, stepping in through the open doorway without a sound.

"Damn it." Landon sighed. Then he shouted, "every time!"

"Look, Landon," Zeke started, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I needed to let off a little steam, and you were unfortunate enough to chase after me. That's the reason I left the Prowler: I didn't want anyone around in case I snapped."

Stephanie nearly fell over.

"What did you say?" Landon asked, his eyes wide as saucers. "Did you just apologize? To me?"

"Don't get used to it." Zeke growled. In a flash, he returned to his normal self. "Now get out. I have to talk to Samuel."

"But we were-"

"Now!"

Both Landon and Stephanie looked to Samuel, who only rolled his eyes. "Just go," he said finally. "We'll only be a minute."

* * *

"Okay," Samuel said after the two Spartans had gone and the steel door had slid completely shut. "What do you want?"

"I don't know what's wrong with me." Zeke answered bluntly. "And I don't know how to fix it."

"Well," Sam said, leaning back against the far wall. "How 'bout you start by telling me what happened at Mahé last night while you were away?"

"It's none of your business." Zeke snapped, instantly on the defensive.

But Samuel pressed anyway. "Something changed last night. You left here confident and proud, like you had something to live for. And today, you're a mess." He paused. "You try to convince me Gravemind didn't have something to do with that."

Ezekiel grimaced at the mention of the name, and Samuel knew for certain that he'd been right. The black-armored Spartan had gone to Mahé to settle a score, and Gravemind had made him regret it.

"You have to get him out of your head."

"What the Hell do you think I'm doing?" Zeke shouted. "Why do you think I went to that Hellhole last night? I went to get him to leave me alone!"

"What happened?"

Zeke's fists clenched at his sides. "I don't get it. No matter how hard I try to defend myself, how numb I am, he manages to find a way through and finds the only holes in the wall that he can hit me from."

Samuel was puzzled. "In this case…?"

"Victoria," he answered. "Even if I can find her…how am I supposed to face her, Samuel? I killed her."

"We talked about this-"

"And we were wrong!" He shouted. "I didn't know that it was her, and if it had been, it would have changed nothing!" Ezekiel's breathing accelerated, and Samuel knew that it was almost time to end this particular conversation. "I'd have killed her all the same!"

"Zeke, you made a choice." Samuel said, choosing his words carefully. "You chose to help her the only way that we could. I don't care what Gravemind told you. You made the only decision there was to make, the one we all would have made." He smiled. "You did the right thing. You served the greater good."

Ezekiel scoffed loudly. "Then why do I feel like a monster?"

"That's how you know." Sam answered, his voice distant as he remembered bits and pieces of Zulu's history, like the destruction of a major facility in Los Angeles that could have killed countless civilians upon its collapse, or the death of Magnus Daniels when he gave his life to ensure that Samuel escaped and helped to stop the Flood. Then there was the bombing of Paris and the deaths of thousands of innocent people to stop the Flood…

The "greater good".

"That's how you know." Samuel repeated quietly, mostly to himself. A moment later, he returned to the situation at hand. "You need to get your mind right." He said. "I don't care how you do it, but you have one more day before we leave. Even if that means taking the Phantom somewhere, do it. But I don't want you listening to a word Gravemind says if you leave here."

"Where would I even go?" Zeke asked. "Mahé no longer serves a purpose to me."

Samuel shrugged. "You don't have to go anywhere. I'm not exiling you. But what happened today, between you and Landon," he paused, working to stay neutral in the situation. "That had better never happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Zeke growled.

"Good." Samuel nodded, satisfied. "Now get your stuff. I don't care if it's food, clothes, medicine…just get it, go to the Phantom, and do whatever it is you do. But get your head straight. I don't expect – or want – to have this talk again."

"That makes two of us." Ezekiel answered, turning toward the door. It slid open, and he stopped. "Thanks, Goliath."

Sam smiled. "No problem. Just promise me that you'll remember it. We're a team. We're family." He stopped for a moment before adding a last comment. "And we have a job to do."

Ezekiel's face was grim at the mention of the Spartans' "job", but he nodded all the same before stepping from the room and allowing the door the slide shut behind him.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Well, that's Chapter 9. Blaine fans, like I said, should be pleased. He's a tank, what can I say?**

**I'll start working on 10 here in the next day or two, and hopefully get it done before I have to go back to school in 2 weeks. Happy holidays everyone!**

**- Raptor  
**


	11. Chapter 10: Break's End

**Author's Notes: That's right. I live. I know, until you all find me for making you wait so long...then I die. But for now, I live!**

**No, in all seriousness, I owe everyone a major apology. About two months of my hiatus I will claim is not my fault or anything I could circumvent. Another couple of weeks for holidays. Apart from that? Simply busy and not able to make this chapter (or any writing, for that matter) come out the way I wanted it.**

**So, for that, I apologize. This chapter is my marker, returning me to standard times once more. I have finals during the first full week of May - during that time, you likely won't see much of me. Apart from that, I will be doing my best to post regularly once again. Keep in mind - I'm assuming against my better judgment that I still have many fans left to read these notes. :(**

**Now, so as not to bore you further, I will skip to a few (well-deserved) review responses - likely the last ones I'll do for a while, since I doubt I get many for this chapter, as a lot of my regular readers have likely keeled over in old age. But no, if I get reviews, I will answer as I always have. :)**

**REVIEWS:**

**The Elven-Spear: No, there wasn't a lot of combat in the last one. Just a bit between friends. Character-development has been my focus as of late - but it's about to shift to full-on warfare again! Survive this chapter, and I will promise you the fight-scenes that (from my understanding) people read my stories for. :P Thanks for reviewing!**

**Ildina: I bet you've finish The Last Stand again since I posted last, huh? ;) No, I intend to keep things a little more steady now, pending a tragedy. And don't worry about Zeke's attitude - I know the character I made originally, and I know that what everyone wants to see. And I won't disappoint. Thank you for your review(s), and I hope you like the action that will be coming very soon!**

**xcavars: Thank you for the compliments. I can assure you, the story will get much better than it is now - wait and see! (Hopefully not too long, lol)**

**Mhop12: LOL, it turns out you do! Sorry about that. It really has been a hectic few months - not that I can excuse such an absence. I noticed you changed your LIVE tag too! What's that about? lol. Thanks for reviewing, and enjoy what's to come!**

**Drake S. Hellion: Glad you liked the chapter! A lot of people had been asking me for a fight of sorts between the two, so I decided to give it a shot in such a way as not to cripple either of them, lol. And don't worry - Zeke's ego will survive. ;) Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like what's coming up!**

**killerman83ca: lol, bet when you told me to "take my time", you didn't quite have this in mind. ;) And I already have my plot devices spelled out for Vic and her attempted rescue. No worries. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Suliac Griffin: Glad you liked it. :) Sorry it took so long to show another, lol. I also thought a lot about your concern for the other Spartans, and I think it will work okay. The fact is, I have "main" Spartans just like I have "main" characters, and they may never see the same amount of limelight as Sam, Blaine, or Zeke, but they will be treated much more fairly this time around, I hope. I believe I can do a much better job of it than in the past. Thanks for bringing it up to me though - it's nice to know I'm not the only one worried about it, lol.**

**Samus 117: Haha! Yeah, Blaine is awesome. There's really not much else to say. ;)  
And I've never seen those two shows - I was a Dragon Ball Z fan growing up (as a lot of you can likely gather from reading some of my fight scenes and their...grandiose nature).  
Thanks for reviewing for me!**

**Samson00: Yeah, we don't get to chat as much anymore, what with someone getting married and stuff. ;) Thanks for proofing this one for me, by the way. Helps a lot. :) Take care of yourself, and don't forget to be on so you can read the next one, lol**

**RandomMan: I should like to think so. His normal character is the one you see throughout The Last Stand - this is one that has been taken to extremes by circumstances, and you will see a recovery to an extent. Give him a little slack. lol ;) Thanks for reviewing!**

**ching965: Happy New Year (belated!) to you as well. :) And thank you for being one of the only people to say anything about my Christmas banter, lol. I thought it was a fun touch to give them a little optimism for the future, even if things aren't exactly ideal. Oh, and no worries - Zeke will be fine. ;) Thanks for your review! Enjoy what's to come!**

**armoured-blade: Cage Fights! I miss those chapters, in a lot of ways. They were fun to write.  
I have to address your point though: I will do more with Landon's "portrayal" in this chapter to explain it more thoroughly. It may still bother some people, but it's a psychological struggle that I could see him as a character having to deal with in the circumstances (it'll make more sense after reading - promise).  
Also, I thought about doing the fight in the gravity, but the fact is that neither of them is up to it yet. Zeke still does basic exercises - no real sudden movements that aren't practiced and prepared for. Blaine could function, but he'd be slower, AND he would be completely disoriented by the change in forces until he got used to them (and that wouldn't be a two-minute switch, either). So I decided to skip it for now.  
The weapons - I will deal more with when they get used prior to combat. I have intentionally neglected to say much about them for now so as not to give a bunch of details and then not use them for a while. I promise - when it becomes more relevant, you will know all I can tell you. :)  
Finally, the bit about the dragging on - I AGREE ENTIRELY. This chapter is short specifically because I am tired of it and others like it. It's okay reading - that's not what I mean - I'm just tired of the emotional rollercoaster, as you called it. When I go back to edit this, I will condense some of it to make it more bearable. And no - no combat this chapter - next chapter the fighting begins. This is the departure. :)  
As for Vic - she's been...away. And Magnus? He's...also away. But you'll see them both in time.  
Thanks for reviewing, Ben! Take care!**

**FireWolfFred: I imagined most people would enjoy the two of them finally rolling up the sleeves and throwing a few punches. Nothing major - can't break either of them before the fighting starts - but enough to get the hostilities out. And as for Landon - he and the other Spartans that didn't get quite as much screen-time are going to come into their own characters a bit this time around. And I think it will work in the long-run. Thanks for reviewing for me!**

**DoctorG27: Really? I don't think I've met a "not-fan" of Blaine before, lol. Everyone seems to love the total disregard for rules and the ability to survive...you know, anything. :P Still, glad you liked it, and sorry I couldn't get you more cool guns - I have to save a few for later. lol. Thanks!**

**Bombsty: First of all, thank you very much for the compliments. You flatter me - it's really just a hobby more than anything. That being said, I did decide to take a few writing courses this year in college in the hopes of getting better and honing my skills a little bit. As for the bit about watching my "maturation" as a writer...I do apologize for the start. I'm trying to get it edited, and if I had my way, no one would ever be able to read it again. :)  
Secondly, to answer your question: his are unique in that they're not mounts. The technology used in Energy Swords to both project magnetic fields and generate plasma has been improved upon by human beings (as the UNSC did with several pieces of Covenant technology) and made smaller and more efficient so that it can fit into the "gloves" of his armor and project essentially from the knuckles. This allows it to feed off of the MJOLNIR armor's rechargeable battery and act as a weapon that doesn't need to be carried.  
I hope that cleared everything up, and thank you again for your review and your kind words! :)**

**Redflame101: Hey! I thought that there would be a few people who liked the new weapons (even before I gave much detail on them, lol). As for your question about Zeke getting back to normal: you read this chapter, and then tell me. ;) Thanks!**

**LordRaid: Yeah...long delays. I hope to minimize those, but life just keeps finding a way to keep my busier than I care to be, lol. Thank you for the review, and rest assured that I will keep Zulu Company off of their shore leave for a while. :)**

**Paws: Updating! lol. I'm glad that you could amuse yourself with The Last Stand while you had to wait on this to get updated. :) As I said to a few others - I hope not to have continual breaks, but Writer's Block does seem to attack me at the most inopportune times. Regardless, thank you for your support, and enjoy what's coming down the pipe!**

**And those are the reviews! Again, I am sorry for how it has taken me. Now, however, the "drama" of sorts is dealt with, and the real action - the Flood, the bombs, the fighting - is going to be back in full force! And if I still have anyone around to read it, drop me a review (not that I deserve them, lol) and let me know!**

**Also - expect more from me very, very soon. I'm gonna hit the ground running.**

**Enjoy the last of the obligatory set-up before the real fun begins!  
**

**

* * *

Chapter 10:**

– **Break's End –**

**1400 Hours - July 17, 2553**

**Silhouette Island - Sychelles Islands, East Of Africa**

It was after noon by the time Samuel finished the last of the chores he'd set aside for himself before the Spartans departed for Los Angeles. He'd started with his suit: it had to be inspected to make sure that the air-tight seal was functioning and protected, since he was one of the few Spartans that were actually at risk of airborne infection. After that, his ammunition and grenades had been placed into a crate about the size of a portable refrigerator. Then he moved to his weapons.

A new Spartan Laser had been sent down from the Atonement to replace the one Sam had been carrying. The battery was fresh and the metal still glistened with that "new" shine…a shine that he knew wouldn't last long once the Spartans started working, on his weapon or anyone else's.

Regardless, the laser was checked out and attached to the back of his MJOLNIR armor, deemed ready for combat. Next came the Battle Rifle, which was stripped completely down and cleaned in every imaginable fashion before being placed alongside the giant Spartan Laser.

Lastly, Samuel King went outside and dealt with the twin Shotguns that were always strapped to his hips, the ones that looked comparable to a pair of Brute Maulers when he held them in his hands. They were stripped, cleaned, prepped, and test-fired outside the Prowler. It was a long process, but one that he was sure each and every Spartan was performing – after all, no break lasts forever, and no one wondered what horrors waited for them outside the relative safety of Silhouette.

_It's almost time,_ the Spartan thought as he entered the Prowler, fully armored and with the two Shotguns in their normal positions.

As he stepped inside, he watched Blaine emerge from one of the side-rooms and out into the hall.

"Hey boss," he said, the giant Gravity Hammer draped loosely over one shoulder.

"Hey," Sam answered. "You wanna do me a favor?"

Blaine stopped. "Sure."

"Go tell the others to finish getting their things together. We're leaving in two hours."

Blaine nodded, turning away. Then he shouted abruptly, "hey! Get your shit! We're leaving!" He turned back to Samuel. "That work?"

"Not what I had in mind," Sam admitted, "but it'll do."

* * *

"Sounds like you're takin' off." Jason managed as Blaine's voice echoed through the Prowler. The biomechanical Spartan was still quarantined to his bed. "Kick Gravemind's ugly ass for me," he said, smiling.

Landon nodded. His face was calm, but he didn't even know words to describe the turmoil that was going on behind the mask. As if leaving Jason here alone weren't enough, he also had a dozen doubts related to Ezekiel's statements bouncing around in his head…doubts that, normally, would never have appeared in the first place, especially not over Zeke throwing a tantrum and letting his words get venomous.

But this time was different.

This time, the words only reinforced notions that were already present. This time, these were solely Landon's doubts, and the other Spartan had only helped to solidify them. And his apology did little to change that.

"Jason," he said, trying to keep his voice level, "you should be the one leaving."

The injured Spartan let out a painful-sounding laugh. "This again?" he asked. "Look, I told you: I made a choice. I made a trade. Now accept it and move on. Don't insult me by insinuating that I didn't make the right call."

"That's not what-"

"Yeah, it is." Jason cut him off. "And I'm telling you: I made the right call." He paused, letting the anger subside. "Now go prove it."

Landon sighed, giving up. "Okay." He said. "Take care of yourself."

Jason smiled. "That's the hot nurse's job." He joked.

"Stop acting like me," Landon said, unable to suppress a grin.

"Then you start acting like it." Jason answered sternly.

Landon shook his head. "Alright," he said, conceding the verbal match. "You win." The next smile wasn't forced. "Get well, okay? We'll be back soon, and if you're still in bed, whining, Sam's gonna be pissed."

"You just worry about yourself," Jason quipped. "I'll be running laps by the time you get back."

"I sure hope so," Landon said. With a last smile, he turned around and left the room.

* * *

"So this is it, huh? They just leave us here to fend for ourselves?" Johnson asked cynically from one corner of the kitchen. "Figures; why stick around and take care of those who need it when you can go and only worry about yourself?"

Joseph Wallace rolled his eyes. "Shut the Hell up, would you? I've had about as much of your bitching as I can stand."

"Well, get used to it." Robert answered. "Because you're gonna be stuck with me, the married couple, and the so-called super-soldier for a while."

At this, Wallace felt his patience waver. "Not if I drown you, I won't be," he said. "And leave Zant out of your bitching. Complications could still come up, and he could still die in that bed."

"I don't want him to die," Robert answered. "I just don't particularly care for him. I mean, he went and got himself infected. He shouldn't be alive."

"Well, that means fortune smiled on him," Joseph said. "You can relate. You're lucky too."

Robert laughed coldly. "How the Hell am I lucky?"

"You're lucky to be alive." Wallace answered bitterly, looking the smaller man right in the eye. "Now go away. You're less of a pleasure to be around than Ezekiel. At least he complains about things with intent to change them. You just complain."

"Well, forgive me for not being a medically-altered super-human with a shielded suit and a lifetime of military training. Hell, if I were, I sure wouldn't be here."

"Nope," Joseph said. "You'd be dead, because-" He stopped when Stephanie walked into the room.

"Hey," she said kindly, walking over to a cabinet full of bottled water that the team had raided from Mahe' some time before. "How you guys holding up?"

"Us?" Joseph asked with a grin. "We're not doing shit. You guys are the ones putting your lives on the line."

She shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I feel worse that we're leaving you guys here without any backup." Her tone told Wallace that she meant every word.

"We'll be fine." He said confidently. "You just take care of yourself, and the rest of Zulu." He had another thought, and laughed aloud. "Besides, the only person in any danger here is Johnson, and it has nothing to do with the Flood."

"Hilarious," Robert answered bitterly.

Joseph ignored him, looking Stephanie in the eye – difficult as it was due to the difference in height, even when she wasn't armored. "You guys are going into the deepest circles of Hell to save every ounce of life in the galaxy." He paused, shaking his head. "Forget about us. Just take care of the Flood."

Stephanie nodded, a ghost of a smile on her face. "You got it."

"Good." He turned to Johnson. "Good?"

The accountant rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he said, "good."

* * *

It was a perfect day for a change. The sun was shining, even through the tinted atmosphere. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the island, and if Blaine hadn't known better, he'd have thought it was a perfect day for a vacation.

Instead, it was a perfect day to end the vacation.

He sat up from his nap on the grass and glanced over at his things, piled up against a tree trunk. His weapons had been stripped, cleaned, and test-fired. His armor was working at full capacity. He was well-stocked with both ammo and grenades.

Locked. Loaded. Ready.

_Now if only the others would get their asses out here,_ he thought. He was tired of waiting on the myriad of random distractions that had popped up since Samuel had proposed his plan to go to Los Angeles. It was regrettable, but they didn't have time for them. The Flood moved quickly and efficiently, and every day wasted waiting on Jason to heal or Zeke to finish his loner-bullshit was another day Gravemind had to prep his forces and his escape plans.

It was time they didn't have.

"You ready?" Samuel's voice was calm and collected, as usual, as he walked up behind the cybernetic Spartan.

"Born ready, Sam," he answered. "When do we leave?"

"Little over an hour."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "We should already be gone."

Samuel took a seat beside him, fully armored, all the way up to his helmet. "We want to arrive at night. This is our safe-haven. Once we leave here, we'll be on the move constantly to avoid detection. Arriving early does nothing for us."

Blaine nodded. "I know." He said, conceding. "And I understand. I just don't like sitting around, screwing off while Gravemind readies his forces. It's bad practice."

"We don't have a choice this time. We'll just have to make up for it by blasting everything in sight once we get there." He paused, apparently gauging Blaine's reaction. "Fair?"

The biomechanical soldier grinned at the thought. "Fair."

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Blaine was almost ready to settle back into a nap when two pairs of footsteps shook the ground he was lying on.

"We ready?" Stephanie asked, throwing a large bag onto the dirt, right beside Blaine's head.

"Hey! Watch it, will ya?"

"Sorry," she said. "But are we leaving?"

"Not for another hour," Samuel answered, turning around to see the two Spartans. "And Zeke's not even back yet."

"Someone should tell him that." Landon said, and Blaine slowly sat up.

The smaller Spartan was at the edge of the forest, about eighty-yards away. He was unarmored and had what appeared to be a large sack slung over one shoulder.

"We were just talking about you." Samuel said loudly, standing up.

"I heard."

"What have you got there?"

Zeke didn't answer, but Blaine could make out a large grin on his face. And there was something else too – he was holding something in his free hand. It was too small to see exactly, but it looked vaguely round.

When the Spartan had gotten closer, Blaine could make out a dozen bloodied places on his sleeveless shirt and shorts, along with cuts and bruises galore. He looked like he'd been through Hell. Still, his smirk was back in full force, and he took a bite out of the thing in his hand before throwing Samuel the tied-up bag.

"Is that…an apple?" Stephanie asked, her tone riddled with a combination of disbelief and envy.

"That's right," he said, taking an obnoxiously-loud bite. It was showy, like something out of a cheap movie.

"Cheesy much?" Landon asked.

"Is it safe?" Stephanie asked, eyeing the bag in Samuel's hand.

"Nope," Zeke answered. "It'll kill ya." He took another bite.

"Where'd you get this stuff?" Samuel asked, opening the bag. Blaine could see fruits of all kinds and colors stuffed inside.

"ONI greenhouse and storage on Zanzibar," he answered. "It was sealed tight, and everyone died early, so the Flood left it alone. Nothing of value to them, and certainly nothing worth wasting the manpower to break in."

"And you…brought a bag back…for us?" Landon's voice was completely skeptical, even bitterly so.

"He's right," Blaine added calmly. "Doesn't sound like you."

Zeke shrugged. "Consider it a peace offering."

"What about you?" Stephanie asked. "Aren't you going to want any?"

"I already had a bag." He said with a smile. Then, he grinned wider and added, "and this came from yours." He sunk his teeth into the apple again.

"You've been a giant ass," Blaine said, hiding a smile that was threatening to crawl across his face. "You expect to buy our forgiveness with fruit?"

"That's the plan."

"Works for me!" Stephanie said. "I haven't had a real piece of fruit in almost four months."

"Yeah," Landon said, "thanks."

Samuel nodded in agreement.

"Fine," Blaine said, shrugging. "You can have your peace offering. Just remember who can kick your ass if you step outta line."

"Sure," Zeke said, glancing down at his clothes. "Now, when are we leaving?"

"One hour," Sam answered. "Be ready."

"I will be. My stuff's already on the Phantom." With that, he stepped past the Spartans and walked toward the Prowler.

"Hey, Zeke," Sam said, stopping him.

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"What happened, out there?"

Ezekiel only smirked, and then turned and walked into the Prowler.

_It's about time,_ Blaine thought, confident for the first time in quite a while in the power behind Zulu Company. _Now we've got a team.

* * *

_

"Looks like we're ready to go," Stephanie said, biting into a banana. "And this is fantastic, by the way." She turned to Landon. "You should have some."

Samuel squinted behind his visor, watching the cybernetic Spartan. There was still something very off about Landon's behavior, and he wondered how much of it was due to Jason, and how much of it was something else.

"It's okay." He answered. "I'm not hungry."

_It's not Jason. There's something else._

"I'm gonna go inside for a bit before we leave," Samuel said, handing Blaine the bag of fruit. "Get a little time out of my suit before I'm stuck in it for days at a time."

"Sounds good."

"See you in a bit, Sam."

With a nod, he left them, walking into the Prowler and straight to Jason's room.

* * *

"Your newfound disposition is strange." Demon said from the laptop in the far corner of Ezekiel's room. "Care to tell me exactly what happened out there?"

Zeke smiled. "No."

"What the Hell?" the AI snapped. "What's with the big secret? You find enlightenment or something?"

"If that's how you choose to see it," the Spartan answered, "be my guest."

"You're extremely irritating."

"Thank you. As you know, I pride myself on-" He was interrupted by a series of loud knocks on the door. "It's open."

The door slid open, and Samuel stepped inside. He was still completely armored, except for his helmet, which was in one hand.

"I need to talk to you."

Zeke shrugged. "Don't know why. I've behaved since we last chatted."

"It's about Landon."

Ezekiel felt his mood darken slightly. "I already apologized to him. And I meant it. That's the best I can do."

"It's not about that."

"No?"

"Well," Sam admitted, "yes and no. It's about what you said, but not for the reasons you said it." He paused. "Landon is facing the very real possibility that Jason will die while we're away, and he doubts the fact that he should be going with us. He blames himself for Jason's condition-"

"And what I said had nothing-"

"And what you said didn't help matters." He finished. "You solidified every fear that he had."

"If he's that insecure, he's in the wrong line of work. We're soldiers. Warriors. Not petty children."

"It's not insecurity. I thought it was." Samuel shook his head. "I was sure that he was just feeling down after having you beat on him, but that's not it. He's genuinely afraid that Jason will die after putting his life on the line and that, in the end, he'll have somehow made the "wrong" decision. He doubts himself."

Ezekiel scowled. "I'm not much for pep talks."

"Good, because that's not what I'm asking of you," Sam answered without missing a beat. "I want you to convince him that his fears are stupid, that he's wasting his time worrying about them, and that he needs to toughen up." He raised an eyebrow. "That sound a little more up-your-alley?"

Zeke rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"You can tell me what happened out there."

At this, he smiled. "I let go, Sam." It was far from the full truth, but it was as close as he was ready to reveal to anyone else. He let out a short laugh, closing his eyes. "I let go."

* * *

"Load your shit." Blaine said, throwing the now-empty fruit-bag onto the ground. Littering was far from his first concern at this point. "Break's over. We leave in a half-hour, and I don't know about Sam, but I don't want to wait an extra minute."

"Who died and put you in charge?" Stephanie asked mockingly.

"Nobody…yet." Blaine answered.

"Ooh, he's serious!" Stephanie said with an air of false terror. "Let's go, Landon! He might hurt us if we don't."

"Just go throw your stuff in the Phantom." Blaine answered, rolling his eyes.

"I'll be right there." Landon said, his eyes downcast. "I'm gonna go say goodbye to Jason."

"I thought you did that already?" Stephanie asked.

"And I'm going to do it again." He snapped harshly, turning away. Instantly, he felt terrible about it, but he couldn't help himself. His doubts were eating away at him from the inside, and he just couldn't shake them.

He hoped one more visit with Jason could.

As he entered the Prowler, however, he got a surprise.

Ezekiel was standing directly in front of Jason's door with his arms crossed at his chest, chewing on another apple, as if he'd known that Landon was coming.

Landon rolled his eyes. _He did know. How hard could it be? How many visits do I pay him on a daily basis?_

"Landon," Zeke said, acknowledging him and taking a bite.

"Move, please," he answered bluntly.

And as he expected, Ezekiel didn't budge. He just took another bite of that damned fruit.

"Zeke, I don't want a fight today. Please just get out of the way."

"In a minute," the other Spartan answered. "We need to chat first."

_Oh, God, please not now. I can't do this now._ "Zeke," he said sternly. "Move."

"You're awfully impatient." He grinned. "I promise you: he's not going anywhere."

Landon gritted his teeth, working to keep his composure. He just didn't have the patience for this. Not now.

"You see that?" Zeke asked, not even looking at him. "You feel that? That's rage. It normally buries itself and takes a lot of pushing to show through, especially in you." He paused. "But not today. Today you're ready to snap at the drop of a pin."

"I'm not asking again." Landon started, but was cut off.

"No, you're not." Ezekiel answered. "You need to get your head straight. You're of no use to anyone in the state you're in."

"You're an ass."

"Sticks and stones," Zeke said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not here to waste time bickering with you."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to realize how foolish you're being."

Landon shook his head, biting his lip. "You're just-"

"Shut up and listen to me." Zeke interrupted him again. "You're so scared of Jason kicking the bucket while you're gone, so terrified of having his blood on your hands, that you can't even see the present for what it is. You can't even focus on the task at hand because you're lost in your own head-"

"He should be going with you!" Landon shouted. He'd finally snapped, and he knew it. There was no going back. "I don't care what he says, or what you say or what Sam says! He doesn't deserve this, and he sure as Hell doesn't deserve to die!"

"No?" Zeke questioned. "Doesn't he? Don't we all? You're so certain that Jason is there because, why? Because you didn't realize he was going to push you out the window? He made a choice! It was his to make, and you-"

"And I shouldn't have allowed him to make it!" Landon yelled. "Why should he be the one to save my life? Why didn't it occur to me to push him?" He could feel the very beginnings of tears now, the same ones that had haunted him every night he'd been on the island.

That was the worst truth of all: Jason was dying because he had had the heart to save Landon's life. If Landon had felt the same way, if he had seen what Jason had, if he had cared enough to do the same, maybe things would have been different. He was worse than a fool. He was a coward.

"So that's what this is about." Zeke said, showing that infuriating smirk that he was infamous for as if he had just pieced together some great puzzle. "You think that he was the better man, that the reason he pushed you and not vice-versa was because you're not a good enough friend to give your life for his?"

Landon didn't answer. He just stood there, staring at the other Spartan, torn as to whether he should break down completely or start swinging.

"Well, there's your first mistake." Zeke said. "Jason's not in that room because of what he saw that you didn't. He's not in there because he's some great friend. He's-" Landon felt the other Spartan's glare go straight through his eyes all the way into the back of his skull. "Don't you dare throw a punch unless you're willing to spend the next hour pulling my boot out of your ass."

The cybernetic Spartan felt his eyes involuntarily widen, both at the statement and at the fact that Ezekiel – somehow – had read his mind.

"As I was saying," he continued. "Jason is in that room because of what he didn't see." He waited a moment, gauging Landon's reaction. "You're alive because you looked at the situation as it was and saw a way out, a way for both of you to survive. He didn't. He saw death, for both of you. And, with that knowledge, he made a choice."

"But I didn't," Landon interrupted him. "I didn't do the same-"

"Because you saw a way out!" Zeke growled. "You didn't think to push him out a window because you thought you could both make it! For you to act any way but how you did would make you a bigger fool than you already are!"

Landon stood in silence, taking it in. In some ways – vicious, hurtful ways – it made sense. But it was in complete contradiction to everything he'd thought for the past several days-

"Jason made the only choice he could make based on his assessment of the situation. If you had seen things as he did, you'd have done the same, and there's not a person alive who doubts that, especially not Jason." Ezekiel sighed loudly. "If you want to blame someone for him being stuck in that bed, then blame Gravemind for putting him there. Hell, blame Jason for not seeing a way out! But don't blame yourself for something you would have been a fool and a coward to approach differently."

"Jason's a better fit than I am." Landon said, shaking his head even though he didn't fully believe it. The arguments he was hearing made sense, but now all the doubts that he'd had were rearing their heads once more, in one more last-ditch effort. "He functions as a pilot, a sniper-"

"Oh, Lord, would you shut up?" Zeke growled. "Look, I'm gonna say this once, and if I am ever repeated, I will deny it. Understand?" After a pause that seemed almost painful, he said, "you're the one we need for this. You're a better pilot and driver, and that's what we're going to need most. Miedema is good, sure, but he's only human."

"But-"

Zeke held a hand up. "I'm not done." He sighed. "We don't need a sniper. That's my job, and no one is going to do it better. What we need is the best pilot we can get, and that's you. The team needs you for this." He paused. "And I need you to help me find Victoria."

Landon stopped cold, letting the words register and process in his head. He'd never dreamed of hearing such compliments from Ezekiel Veron, of all people. And in no twisted reality could he fathom the other Spartan asking for his help.

"Now," Zeke said, bringing his typically-brutal disposition back to the surface, "man up, quit your crying, and pull your head out of your ass. You're not doing anyone any good this way, and you're insulting Jason in the process. The only way that his decision was the wrong one, and he put his life on the line for nothing, is if you don't get your head back where it belongs and you turn out to be as useless as your doubts would have you believe."

And then the other Spartan abruptly pushed past him, scoffing as he did so before walking right out of the Prowler.

* * *

Blaine stood in silence at the edge of the cave, listening for Stephanie's voice to tell him that they were stocked up and ready for war. She was putting the last of her things into the Covenant dropship, and then they could-

"That's the last of it!" Her voice was hard to understand amidst the resounding echoes, but Blaine caught what he needed to. "We're set!"

"I'll get Sam!" He shouted into the mouth of the cave.

"No need." Ezekiel's voice came from behind him. The cybernetic Spartan turned to see him, Landon, and Samuel walking up the path to the cave, all fully-armored except for Ezekiel, who settled for his casual clothes and sunglasses.

"We all set?" Sam asked.

Blaine nodded. "Stephanie and Miedema are already on-board. Ready when you are."

"Then let's go."

Landon jumped forward first, starting a brisk walk into the cave without looking back, and Blaine could have sworn the other Spartan was almost eager to start the mission, despite three days' worth of doubts and regrets.

"What are you waiting for, tin-man?" Zeke asked, though his voice lacked the typical hostility.

"Ladies first," Blaine answered swiftly.

"Children," Samuel interrupted, "the bus is leaving."

"Fine," Zeke said with a grin. "Looks like break's over."

"That it does," Blaine said with a smile. "Now the fun really starts."

* * *

"I hope you all remembered everything. We don't get the luxury of turning around to grab your favorite pillows!" Miedema was unusually lighthearted as he made his first announcement to the Spartans from the front of the Phantom.

"We're set, Joel," Samuel said. "Let's go!"

Ezekiel felt the Phantom lift off inside the cave, instantly turning at an angle to avoid the rock walls before flying straight out of the cavern, into the open sky above the Indian Ocean.

"This is it." Stephanie said, sounding more than a little anxious.

"Yeah," Landon agreed. "What's the plan, Sam?"

Samuel was sitting cross-legged against one wall of the craft, armored except for his helmet, looking down at the floor. "We'll split when we get there." He said, looking up. "One team meets Miedema at the ruins of the ONI base with the NOVA warheads. Another plants a few Fury-class nukes around the city to distract Gravemind. Zeke will deal with the ship."

At this, a smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth. "Gravemind's gonna be pissed," he said quietly.

Samuel nodded. "I'm sure. But he'll just have to get over it, won't he?"

"Suppose so," Zeke answered, sliding his sunglasses back down over his eyes before leaning back to sleep off the effects of his trip to Zanzibar.

* * *

**Author's Notes: And that's all! I know - short, especially for taking months to get. Don't worry. The real fun is just getting started. Expect a chapter very soon.**

**Happy belated New Year, Valentine's, Saint Patrick's Day, April Fools, and Easter to everyone. :) And I apologize if I missed any - it's 2:22 am and I am BEAT TIRED.**

**Best,**

**- Raptor  
**


	12. Chapter 11: Rex

**Author's Notes: Okay, first of all - this would have been done about 3 days sooner if I hadn't gotten ill this week and spent most of Monday (and all of Tuesday and Wednesday) feeling like I was about ready to keel over...so cut me a short break. I didn't make you wait long this time, and I'd have done better if...Mother Nature, we'll say...hadn't decided to maul me for fun.**

**Regardless, we're gonna do this quick, 'cause it's 2:50 am when I am STARTING Review Responses.**

**NOTE: If your response seems short this time, I apologize. Read the previous line. You'll understand why. :P**

**REVIEWS:**

**Drake S. Hellion: lol, you scared me with the start to that review...had me a little worried I'd lost my touch (which is far from inconceivable). Glad you enjoyed it - and I can relate to the playlist stuff, as music is usually blaring when I write these. :) Thanks!**

**Mhop12: Hahaha! Next time you SHOULD just start spamming me. ;) And I apologize - this time, go figure, no wait! Poor timing on my part, I guess. Just pretend you had to wait 3 months. :P Thanks Mhop!**

**Ildina: lol, why thank you. :) And...how do you read that again and again? I mean, I did that with Jurassic Park but it was actually...you know...good. :P No, seriously - you gotta at least skip the beginning parts until I can get them rewritten. It's one thing to subject readers to long waits but...bad writing? No. Just no. Anyway, glad you like! Enjoy!**

**killerman83ca: lol, no worries - Gravemind will get what's coming to him. That's what Zulu is good for, no? :) Thanks for reviewing!**

**ching965: I'm glad you commented on the apple thing. Few people drew much attention to it, and I'm happy it wasn't unnoticed. The thing about Zeke is that he's really not all that skilled at being nice, so little things like fruit and *kinder* insults are really the way he usually goes. And no, he doesn't always make sense. But who in Zulu does? Also glad you commented on the chat with Landon. It was meant to be a little out-of-character for what's been seen...but times are changing some, as you'll see later on.  
All in all, I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you enjoy what's coming! Thank you!**

**LordRaid: ...you wrote a very long review.  
...THANK YOU! :) I love long reviews.  
Also, I don't know that I deserve applause for working late when it took me 3 months to do it. NOW, however, after a week...it's 3:00 am. I'll take my props, my cookie, and whatever else anyone wants to hand over. Hahaha - no, I wanted this posted. Just got it proofed at 1:30 am, lol. Now, to answer your statements (as best I can with partial brain capacity):  
1. I feel like few people have paid much attention to the group of civilian-types, and I also believe it's my fault. I don't do well with characters *not* Zulu Company, so I feel like many people will look them over as minor characters (which, to be fair, they are). But I do have them for a reason, and I'm glad that someone enjoyed their banter and their moment in the light. :) Regardless, you're absolutely right - it was filler from start to finish. But I needed it, and I'm glad it's out of the way.  
2. You read much further into the "shine" comment than I expected many people would. Honestly, I can't take credit for the military genius of kind of "dulling them down" so that they're not so shiny and attract so much attention. I was really just getting at the idea of them being worn and beaten...very soon, lol. But I appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the answer, and I'm glad you gave it. :)  
3. Stephanie - one character I wish I could portray so much better, or more often. She got the shaft on a couple things, and it does disappoint me (as I'm trying to rectify in this book, lol). But I'm happy that you enjoyed her short piece, and hopefully she can continue to play that part as best she can with...you know, so few civilians around. :P  
4. Zeke and Landon...what can I say? The little "argument" was easy to write. It flowed very easily (as most of this chapter did, ironically). Zeke's lines are...well, I liked them. Wouldn't have changed them a bit (good, since they took 3 months to publish, lol). And to comment a little: Samuel fights for the team. He fights for humanity (when there's one to fight for). Zeke never did. He was always centered on individuals he could see and interact with, which is why the "faceless humanity" that they all fight for is often lost on him. As for his obsession - it's more than just her. It's a concept of redemption for what he screwed up. Though, to be fair, she is a large part of it. Though no - no romance. lol. As for Landon - I got a few comments about him being "out of character" for the last couple of chapters, and it was exactly what I wanted. He was supposed to be on-edge, moody, easily provoked, serious, nervous - all the things Landon has NEVER been. Now, with things a little more settled, he'll start to appear a little more normal.  
That being said, thank you for your kind words and your (very) detailed review, and I hope you like this one as well!**

**Percabethfan117: LOL - nope, still breathing. :P I am sorry to make everyone wait - it was never my intention. Just life...gets in the way, lol. I'm glad you seemed to enjoy the last chapter, and you're one of only a couple of people to mention the fruit to me. :) I thought those lines were at least a little funny - glad someone else thought so. ;)  
Anyway, thank you for (both of) your review(s), and I hope you like this one as well. There are a few mildly humorous parts, I think.**

**The Elven-Spear: lol, he's immune. It was explained briefly in the chapter where Samuel was telling him about Victoria, and will be covered in more detail later, but he's immune to airborne infection. In essence, the spores create a small infection form that requires calcium to live on. Zeke and Victoria both had their bones remade to be of very little calcium (not enough for a form to survive on), so they're both immune to infection and possession. Sorry for the mix-up. :(**

**RandomMan: lol, I figured most everyone would have just given up and assumed I was dead and buried (especially those of you who don't have an alert! How did you know? lol). Still, I'm glad to be back at it, and yes - Zeke is slowly coming back. Just a little time, and all the Spartans will be seeing more of their "old selves" coming around. ;) Thanks!**

**Anon: lol, no! I like those! ;) But I give everyone a moment! Everyone who takes the time to even tell me, "hey, I read it!" deserves to have their name mentioned. I write for me, but I post for you guys (and gals). :) So thank you!**

**xcavars: Yes! It WILL be soon! ;) I made a promise, and I'm keeping it.  
And don't worry...if you're not a "fangirl" (do I even HAVE any of those? lol), I wouldn't want you squealing. That'd be...well, awkward. :P Thanks for reviewing xcavars!**

**200 Review: Thank you! You put me over the next milestone! :) And all I can say is that, if you're right...I hope that everyone still enjoys the chapters I DO actually like, lol. That'd be embarrassing, if they didn't.**

**FireWolfFred: Hahahaha! Aren't we all? lol. And I don't know...Zeke wasn't so much "happy" as he was "calm" after the past chapters. He's just not clinically depressed and borderline suicidal (okay, maybe a little, but not really with the intention of taking his own life...just looks that way). Still, you're right: things are changing. Hopefully you like where they go. :) Thank you, as always!**

**Niroak: LOL. I bet you were just the slightest bit confused. I don't blame you a bit though - it would be extremely hard to just "jump in" to something like this. I had 65 chapters of lead-up just to this book, lol. Still, glad you liked it enough to stick it out and I hope you enjoy the rest!**

**OKAY - that's the reviews. Get ready for another chapter with some violence and a lot of anger. :)**

**Without further wait...here...we...go!  
**

**

* * *

Chapter 11:**

– **Rex –**

**1900 Hours - July 18, 2553**

**Phantom Dropship - Above The Outskirts Of Los Angeles, California  
**

"…up. Hey." Ezekiel stirred at the voice. "Hey! Zeke, get up!" Reluctantly, he opened his eyes behind his sunglasses.

"What?" He snapped.

"We're almost there." Samuel said. "Suit up."

He stretched every muscle he could find, popping and cracking various joints and kinks as he stood up. "How much farther?" he asked, looking around. Everyone else was already armored and waiting.

"Ten minutes," the taller Spartan answered.

Ezekiel growled under his breath at the abrupt end to his nap. After days on end without an ounce of peaceful rest, his subconscious had finally elected to cut him a break.

And then the trip was over.

_Figures,_ he thought. He walked to one side of the Phantom and quickly donned his armor, save for his helmet. It was a quick process, slowed down by his fatigue at having just woken up, but still only taking an upwards of a minute.

"Alright," Blaine said, "smartass is up. Now what's the plan?"

* * *

"Miedema will drop us off on the outskirts of Los Angeles, just inside the Flood perimeter. Radar has picked up, essentially, a ring of Flood Pure Forms on the outer rim of the city. Beyond that, it's clean all the way into the center, where the ship is."

"Radar's not a guarantee," Blaine added. "They can easily be in a structure or anywhere else that the system couldn't detect."

"Thank you," Samuel answered, sounding slightly annoyed. "But it's all we have, and we can't have the Phantom landing to drop us off in the middle of the city where any of ten-thousand Flood forms could catch sight of it." He paused. "Miedema will drop us off, and we'll go on foot from there on in."

"We're cloaked," Landon said matter-of-factly. "If they're not looking for us, they won't find us."

"But they will be." Blaine answered. "To think that Gravemind won't be on the lookout for anything flying around his big project is idiotic."

Samuel nodded. "As said, Miedema will drop us off, then we'll proceed."

"And when we reach the center?" Zeke asked. His stance, arms-crossed in the corner, his eyes, and his bored expression all hinted that he could care less about the discussion going on.

"We split off." Sam answered. "I've given the original plan a lot of thought since we left, and this is how we're going to do it. Landon will stay with Miedema on the Phantom for now. Blaine and Stephanie will go move around the inner parts of the city, planting six Fury-class warheads spaced just close enough to catch everything nearby in the blast."

"We'll clear the way." Stephanie said.

"When they've done that," Samuel continued, "I'll move to the site where the old ONI facility used to be – the one that housed the warheads. We rigged the hooks that we originally used for the Chopper and the Warthog to hold the bomb casings and attached cables from the Prowler that were originally supposed to be used to wrap around and pull in materials from space."

"How are you hooking them?" Stephanie asked.

"Someone's going down there," Samuel answered with a smile.

"Ah, I see." She said, apparently understanding. "Landon gets jump-duty."

Samuel nodded, turning to look at the biomechanical Spartan. "We'll hook you up to the cables and let you use the Jump-Pack to slow your descent. When you get the bottom, hook them to the casings and we'll use the gravity-lift on the Phantom to help pull them up."

Landon nodded. "Sounds good."

"Will the lift reach that far down?" Stephanie asked, remembering how long it took them to reach the bottom of the complex the last time they were in Los Angeles. "They're buried quite a ways under the ground."

"It'll reach." Zeke said bluntly. "The lift has a set of parameters that can be altered either by the pilot or an onboard AI to determine the vertical distance it affects."

"I'd ask how you know that," Landon said, "but I'm not sure I want to know."

"You don't." Zeke answered coldly.

"Anyway," Samuel said, ignoring the comments and bringing them back to the topic at hand. "Landon will have Gael set a timer on one bomb, hook the other two up, and we'll yank them out. Once they're attached to the Phantom, we blow the rest of the city and take off."

"My job?" Ezekiel asked knowingly.

"You get to plant a couple of warheads in the innermost part of the city."

"And…?"

Samuel shook his head. "And you get the ship."

Ezekiel grinned. "Damn right I do."

"Why does he get the ship again?" Blaine asked. "I could get onboard just fine."

"But with more noise." Samuel finished for him. "And you'll make a mess. Zeke goes because he's not allowed to kill anything on the way in."

The black-armored Spartan rolled his eyes. "Boring."

"You can make all the noise you want after we blast the place." Samuel said. "But until we get the NOVA warheads attached to the Phantom and safely out of sight, no one kills anything unless absolutely necessary. Remember: it's a group-consciousness. You kill one, Gravemind will know it, and we'll have them all on us in seconds."

"Fine, fine," Zeke said. "So I plant a few warheads out and about, then in the ship. I leave the ship…and go where?"

"Away from the bombs, would be a good start." Blaine said with a laugh.

"Oh, you're funny, tin-man."

"Guys," Samuel said, slightly annoyed. "Can it wait until after we've dealt with the force threatening to destroy and assimilate every ounce of life in the galaxy? Yes? It can? Good." He sighed. "When the bombs are planted, get away from the ship and go back the way you came in. Your initial bombs will be used as diversions at the last minute if we need them. Otherwise, they blow with the ship."

"Fair enough," Zeke said.

"Blaine and Stephanie: you plant your bombs and meet us at the Phantom, above the ruins of the facility."

"Got it."

"Good. Any questions?"

"Just one," Landon said. "Why don't we just ride the Phantom to our locations and drop us off there, since it's going to be flying in anyway?"

"Thought about that," Samuel admitted, "but we need cover for it. Several nuclear explosions should be just what the doctor ordered to keep the Flood's attention off the night skies."

The biomechanical Spartan nodded. "Works for me," he said. "Just curious."

"Anybody else?"

"Can I make a show of it?" Zeke asked from the corner.

"What?"

"The explosion, on the ship – can I make a show of it?"

Stephanie saw Samuel roll his eyes. "Sure," he said, giving up. "Make a show of it. Just do the job, and don't get caught until you're out of the blast-radius. It's not like he won't know who was responsible when we leave. Pretty much like-"

"Samuel." Miedema's voice echoed over the intercom in the Phantom. "Sixty-seconds to drop."

"Thanks Joel." Samuel answered. "Let me know when we're at fifteen seconds."

"Yes sir."

Stephanie smiled as Sam surveyed the team one last time. "This is it, guys. We get one shot, one chance. So what do you say we make it count?"

"No mistakes." Landon said.

"No problem." Blaine finished with a grin before putting his helmet on.

"We won't let you down," Stephanie said, putting her own helm on.

Samuel smiled. "I know."

"Fifteen to drop, Sam!"

"Let's go! Zeke, you drop first!"

* * *

Ezekiel hit the ground cloaked and without a sound. In seconds, he had checked the area around him, and neither his radar nor his sense of smell could detect anything Flood-infected nearby.

"Clear, Sam."

The other Spartans hit the ground behind him quietly...except for half-a-dozen thumps and thuds as they landed on the pavement.

"You guys wanna make a little more noise?" Zeke growled.

"Just keep your eyes on the road ahead of us," Blaine answered harshly. "You have more important things to consider than us hitting the ground."

Ezekiel ignored him, glancing in every direction, double-checking for any recent signs of Flood activity. It was hard to use just his sense of smell, because every bit of air was permeated with Flood cells. The only judgment he could make in his head was how strong or faint the scent was – meaning how long ago the Gravemind's undead horrors had been there.

"The Flood haven't been here in a while," he said. "We should be clear for at least a solid half-mile or so."

"I like the sound of that," Stephanie said. "Maybe we'll get lucky and make it in without so much as seeing one of them."

"Don't count on it." Blaine growled.

"No pessimism allowed," Samuel said. "I get enough of that when we're off-duty."

"What about realism?" Zeke asked.

"Just shut up and lead."

* * *

"You okay?" Landon asked Miedema from the doorway to the front of the Phantom. "You're pretty quiet."

"I'm always quiet." The pilot answered. "Helps me focus."

The Spartan nodded uncomfortably. "Right," he said. "So, how far out are we?"

"Not far," Miedema answered. "Maybe twenty minutes. We're taking it slow though, going from a high altitude and being careful not to go until the satellites have passed overhead."

"How long?"

The ex-ONI operative shrugged. "An extra half-hour," he said, "give or take. The rest of them don't really have far to walk. If they don't encounter any snags, they should easily be able to get there in twenty five or thirty minutes."

Landon was puzzled. "Then why did Samuel set aside almost an hour in total for us?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

* * *

"We're making good time." Stephanie said. "We should hit the inner part of the city in the next ten minutes, easy."

"That's right." Samuel answered. "Still clear, Zeke?"

Ezekiel nodded. "Not much to see here, Sam." Even as he said it, he glanced around to be sure. They had crossed into a more densely-packed part of the city, full of ruined structures on every side and debris on every street corner.

But something about the entire situation struck Ezekiel oddly. He could determine with relative ease if there were Flood nearby, just by the smell of fresh biomass. One would have thought that, by living in Mahé' for so long, his sense of smell would be almost numb to the putrid scent of the undead.

But they'd be wrong.

Even after spending several long weeks surrounded by that stench, his senses were as fine-tuned as ever, and every individual smell around him was as obvious as if someone had put flashing lights and a bell on it. It had been like that on Mahé', on Silhouette, on Zanzibar…

Now, however, every scent seemed faint. The entire city was dead. There was even a hint of ash – the remains of the destruction that the Flood had wreaked when they first arrived. Other than that, the only unique smell was-

Ezekiel stopped in his tracks as something new presented itself. The scent was human, and familiar, yet oddly unrecognizable. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew it was a scent he'd smelled before.

"You got something?" Samuel asked.

"Give me a second," he answered, trying to process the smell. When he couldn't do it, he quickly took his helmet off to eliminate the problem of the suit's filters.

"Zeke!" For as loudly as Samuel was shouting, his voice was barely audible through his own helmet. "Put your freakin' helmet back on, now!"

Ezekiel put a finger up, trying to figure out what the scent was. It was so familiar, but he just couldn't pinpoint it. He'd realized that it was a person, one that he'd likely only met once, but had left an impression large enough for the scent to be engrained in his memory. And there was something else. For some reason, the first thing that came to his mind was Victoria-

"No way," he said aloud, sliding his helmet on to cover the tremendous grin that had taken over his features. "My luck cannot possibly be that good."

"What is it?" Stephanie asked. "What do you smell?"

He ignored her. "Demon," he said. "You're not gonna believe who we found."

* * *

"What's he smell?" Stephanie asked, confused. "What's the big secret?"

Samuel shrugged. "No idea," he said, a tinge of annoyance present in his voice. "Hurry up, Zeke!" he snapped, not bothering to focus only on the smaller Spartan. "Whatever you're holding us up for, get on with it."

"I'll just be a minute." He answered, suddenly cloaking himself and sprinting down the open street for almost fifty-yards. Zeke stopped at the remains of one-story structure that looked to barely be standing, and rushed inside.

"Zeke!" Sam shouted. "If you get us caught-"

* * *

Rex Sauter heard something just inside the front of the building he was taking cover in. It was a ruined skeleton of a structure, but it had served him well so far. The Flood hadn't been in this part of the city in almost a week.

At least, not until now.

The ex-ONI operative backed further into the corner and raised the Shotgun in his hands, aiming at the only entrance to the room he was hiding in. Whatever undead bastard stepped in first would be getting a face full lead and-

Before he could blink, the Shotgun was suddenly ripped from his hands with enough force that Sauter felt his shoulder be jerked out of place with it. He opened his mouth to shout, but felt something solid hit his throat, and all he could do was gasp for air, staring wide-eyed at the floating firearm in front of him as thoughts circled around his head faster than he could comprehend them. Could the Flood cloak themselves? Why would they try to kill him quietly? If it wasn't the Flood, what was it? Why-

The unseen force lifted him off the ground by his shirt collar and suddenly materialized in front of him into something even more terrifying. The first thing the ONI spook saw was his own terrified reflection, and it took him a moment to realize that he was staring into the visor of a helmet.

It was a MJOLNIR helmet…and it looked dreadfully familiar.

"Hello, Rex."

The pain in Sauter's throat had barely begun to subside when a new shortness of breath overtook him, only this one started in his chest. He recognized the voice. The last time he had heard it, it had made him a promise.

_"If the two of them are not back here in seventy-two hours, for any reason, I will hunt you down like the dog you are, and I will kill you."_

Rex felt his heart accelerate, but still couldn't catch his breath. He just kept staring into the visor, wide-eyed.

"How you been, Rex?" The Spartan asked. "Huh? How's the end of the world treatin' ya?"

He tried to answer, but couldn't find the words. All he could see was an image in his mind's eye of this Spartan – or any of half-a-dozen others – putting a bullet in his head or-

"Not gonna answer me, Rex?" the Spartan asked, sounding hurt. "Fine…but I still want you to do me a favor, okay?"

Sauter nodded furiously, silently praying for his life.

"Keep quiet, alright?"

Before he could answer, Rex was abruptly lifted higher and carried out of the room.

* * *

"I'm gonna kill him." Samuel said, shaking his head. "I'm just gonna grab him, and snap him in-"

He stopped in his tracks as he watched a man suddenly fly out of the building that Ezekiel had just disappeared into. The man hit the ground and rolled for several meters before coming to a stop in the street.

"Please," he said, sitting up slowly and bracing himself with his right arm, "please don't."

Samuel had heard that voice before. It was the same voice that he had heard in the middle of March, when ONI had come to the Birmingham Military Base in search of Victoria Small.

"Is that…Sauter?" Stephanie asked, anger creeping into her voice. She recognized him too.

"That little bastard," Blaine growled. "He lived?" He shook his head. "Shit, there really is no justice in the world."

Ezekiel walked up to the man and kicked him in the stomach hard enough to break several ribs, and he toppled over onto his back, staring at the sky and coughing loudly.

"Are you gonna stop him?" Stephanie asked.

Samuel shook his head. "I'm not." He said plainly. "You can try, if you like. But I wouldn't advise it."

* * *

"What's wrong, Rex?" Zeke asked, picking the spook up by his throat and clenching his hand. "Aren't you happy to see me? You remember last time, right?" His grip tightened slightly.

"You're…chokin'…me…"

"Choking you?" The Spartan asked skeptically. "I'm not choking you, Rex!" With that, he almost doubled the strength of his grip and almost swore he watched the man's eyes bulge in their sockets. "This is choking, Rex!"

Sauter pounded frantically on the Spartan's arm, trying to loosen his grip. Of course, it was futile. Even if Ezekiel hadn't been an armored super-soldier, the rage that was fueling his actions would have been more than enough to keep him going.

"You feel that, Rex?" he asked. "That distinct lack of oxygen? That's choking, Rex. That's choking!" He laughed loudly, savoring the moment. "Actually, I've found that, if you deprive someone of their oxygen, you typically get their full, undivided attention. What do you think, Rex? Do I have your attention?"

He nodded quickly, gagging as he continued trying in vain to move the Spartan's hand.

"Good." Zeke nodded approvingly. "Now, I have to tell you a couple things, Rex. First and foremost, I hate your miserable, sniveling guts and I swear to you that before our little chat is over, I will rip your worthless throat out." The man's eyes got even wider. "But, before I do, I have to rant for a minute. I don't think you mind, do you? Seeing as you're clearly not going anywhere, and every second I spend talking is another second you get to breathe…well, kind of…" As he ended, he loosened his grip just enough to allow the shaking man to stay conscious.

"Air," Sauter gasped painfully, letting his hands fall to his sides, "air…"

"Yeah, yeah," the Spartan said dismissively. "Air, I know." At that, Ezekiel felt every ounce of reason and emotion aside from pure, unbridled hatred be pushed to the back of his consciousness. "You lied to us, Rex!" He shouted. "Three days! That's what you said! You told us that they were just routine procedures, that they were for her benefit! But you forgot something, didn't you? You forgot to tell us one little, insignificant fact. You know: the one about how you were going to clone her and send the shell on a suicide run so that we would never see her again? You forgot about that, didn't you, Rex?"

With that, Ezekiel really lost his temper, and he spun around, letting the man go mid-spin and watching him fly through the air before hitting the ground, spinning end-over-end until he crashed into the wall of a still-standing market.

It was an unlucky hit too: Sauter had missed the open doorway by only a few feet.

"Zeke," Demon said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. "You have to control yourself. He's not worth-"

"Enough!" He snapped. "This isn't your business, so shut up."

"There's…the chain." Sauter gasped as the Spartan began to walk toward him. "The chain of command! You're a soldier! I'm your superior! You can't!"

Zeke stopped cold in his tracks. "Oh," he said with an air of false-realization. "My superior…I hadn't thought of that." Slowly, he made his way to the fallen operative, who was still propped up on one arm, facing the Spartan's boots.

"Yes!" Sauter said, suddenly bolder as defiance crept into his voice. "I'm your superior!"

"That's right." Zeke said, nodding. "You are, aren't you?" Then, without warning, he reared back and sent his foot crashing into the man's ribcage again, knocking him once more into the wall behind him. "You little bastard! Look around you!" He motioned to the empty, ruined streets. "There's no "chain of command" here! There are no spooks to help you! It's just you, me, and them!" He pointed to the rest of Zulu Company, who were still watching at a distance. "And they're not gonna do a damn thing to help you, 'cause you lied to them too!"

* * *

"We're taking too long." Blaine said harshly. "I'm sure this is a big deal to him, but we have to get a move on. We're losing daylight."

"We don't want daylight." Samuel answered calmly. "I counted on something stupid slowing us down. We can't start until after sunset anyway. Even if we leave now, we'll just get there early and have to hide and wait."

"I'd rather be early than be standing out here in the open." Blaine growled.

"That I do agree with." Samuel said. "I was hoping he'd be done by now, but apparently he's got a little more left in him."

"But we should be okay," Stephanie added. "Flood haven't been in this part of town in a week, right?"

"And with all the noise Zeke's making?" Blaine asked. "You expect that to be the case much longer?"

"He's right, and I'm tired of standing out here." Sam stated, ending the conversation. After a brief pause, he said, "Zeke! Take it inside! And hurry up – we're on a schedule."

* * *

"You heard Sam," Demon said loudly. "You have to-" Zeke couldn't hear the AI's voice anymore as he unlatched his helmet and tossed it casually onto the pavement. But that was just a bonus; his real reason had been to look Sauter in the eye before he died.

Ezekiel took a step toward him. "Come on, Rex," he said, yanking the man up again by his shirt collar, "we're just gonna take a short walk." He started walking before Rex could protest and took only a few steps up to the open doorway of the market. "Oh look! Here we are!"

Then, without warning, he mercilessly threw the man through the open doorway. The ex-operative knocked over an isle full of likely-stale junk food and rolled for almost twenty meters until he slammed into the back wall of the building. Unfortunately for the former-spook, the wall was lined with see-through refrigerators that shattered on impact, spilling a combination of blood and glass onto the floor right along with Rex Sauter.

Slowly, painfully, Rex propped himself up again, only glancing quickly at the glass that littered the floor around him. When he looked to Zeke, the Spartan activated the Energy Sword implanted into his right glove, and the loud hiss of plasma erupting into life drowned out every other sound in the store.

Sauter tried to scoot away, but he was backed against a wall. There was nowhere to go. "No," he managed, shaking his head as he tried to regain his breath between sharp coughs. "Please. Don't!"

"Oh no?" he answered. "And why not? Tell me why not, Rex! Lie to me again. Lie to me and tell me why I should spare your miserable life. Tell me how it wasn't your fault, how you couldn't have known, or how it wasn't your choice! Tell me how there was nothing you could do! Go ahead, Rex! Lie one more time! Come on!"

"No!" he wheezed. "I wouldn't…I wouldn't lie to you! Not again!"

"You expect me to believe that? You little lying bastard! I'll tell you what: you've got ten seconds to convince me to spare your life, or I'll cut you into so many pieces, not even Gravemind will be able to put you back together again!"

"Okay!" He shouted, trying to catch his breath. "I know…I know where…"

"Spit it out, Rex! I'm a busy man!"

"I know where she is!" Rex said as loudly as possible between the coughs and choking on his own blood.

And, against all odds, Ezekiel stayed his hand. It was unfathomable. There was nothing more in the world he wanted than to slice this wretched, lying worm to ribbons…

Or was there?

"Where who is?" he asked, deactivating the blade.

"The female," Sauter said. "The Spartan. Victoria!"

"You lie!" Zeke growled, and the blade flashed to life again.

"No!" he protested. "I know where she was being held! I know where they'd have taken her. I swear!"

Once again, the plasma-powered sword faded and died. "You're on a short leash, Rex." He warned. "Talk."

"She was moved within twelve hours of being taken from Birmingham." Sauter said, breathing hard. "They took her here! They took her here to Los Angeles, to a base about ten miles away from where we're standing!"

"And then what?" Zeke growled. "What about when the Flood got here?"

"I don't know for sure!" Sauter admitted, holding back tears. "Most personnel were evacuated, including my superiors."

"Meaning Rose," Ezekiel said with disdain, referring to the infamous "Cassandra Rose" that had screwed Zulu Company more than once and was the one behind Victoria's "relocation".

Rex nodded. "But they didn't want to move the Spartan off-planet." He said. "If she's still here, she's in the Citadel."

"The what?"

"It was a name ONI gave to a black-ops stronghold in the Himalayan Mountains. It's a solid dome of more than five feet of Titanium-A over a base that extends a quarter-mile under the mountains. It was the last stronghold, and since the Flood don't function well in the cold, they couldn't breach it. Not even an orbital glassing process would touch the actual base, and it's not on any records, anywhere."

"How is that possible?" Zeke asked. "You can't just have a highly-staffed, giant-ass base in the middle of the mountains and tell me that no one knows it's there!"

"The Office of Naval Intelligence only had a handful of individuals who knew of its existence," Rex continued. "There were also twenty-six people from other divisions who ranked high enough to know its location. They were all evacuated."

"Except you?"

"I'm not supposed to know about it." Rex admitted. "I overheard Rose once. That's why I don't know exactly where it is, but you could find it with a satellite."

"So while I'm sure the Flood know it's there," Zeke said, putting the pieces together, "they don't know what's in it, and won't take the losses to find out."

The ex-operative nodded. "If they kept her on the planet, that's where she is."

"Rex," the Spartan growled, stepping forward, "if you're lying to me-"

"I'm not!" he said, now in tears. "I swear! I swear to you, I'm not! I wouldn't! Not about this!"

"Bullshit!" The Spartan snarled. "You'd lie about anything to save your miserable hide!" Once more, he kicked the man in the ribs, sending him crashing into the wall of refrigerators behind him again before falling back to the floor in a heap.

"Zeke!" Sam's voice came from behind the Spartan, and he turned to see all three of the other Spartans waiting inside the market, with Blaine watching the door. "You got what you needed. Let's go. Now." Sam was holding Zeke's black helmet in his hand, and his tone told the smaller soldier that he wasn't about to debate points with him, either.

Ezekiel shrugged, turning back to the beaten, dying spook in front of him. "You heard the man," he said bluntly. "Time's up. Time to die." He kicked him once more in the ribs for good measure.

Now Rex was coughing more violently, and blood came out almost every time he tried to breathe. "But I…I told you…what you wanted." He said, shaking his head and crying.

"That was for lying to us last time." Zeke growled. "And this is just in case you're lying to me again." The sword activated for a third time.

"No! You…you can't!"

"Actually, I can." Ezekiel answered coldly. "See Rex, I promised you that I would find you, didn't I? And I promised you that after I'd finally hunted you down, I'd make you pay for lying to me, for taking her from us." He smiled viciously, twisting the sword and letting the light created wicked shadows in the room. "See, unlike you Rex, when I make a promise, I keep it."

"Please," the man was still pleading, trying to save his life. "Please. I don't want to die! I never meant any harm! I was…following orders, just like you! I…I didn't know what they'd do!" If it had been anybody else, Ezekiel might have felt sorry for the poor man.

But it wasn't "anybody else". It was Rex Sauter.

"Besides," he finished, pretending the former-spook had never opened his mouth, "you're clearly in too much pain to go with us anyway, and I can't risk Gravemind finding you and using this information to find her first." He shrugged. "I clearly only have one option."

He reared back with the sword and Rex started to scream, but was cut off long before any sound could come out.

* * *

"You done?" Samuel asked as the smaller Spartan came walking to the front of the store. He couldn't suppress the irritation in his voice.

"Yeah," he answered. "I'm done."

"Got lots of answers, I see." He held out the smaller soldier's helmet.

Zeke nodded, snatching it and putting it on. "Let's get this over with." He said bitterly. "I have a date with a base full of lying government spooks."

"We'll talk about it later." Samuel said. "For now, you're right. Let's get moving. We're almost there. You lead."

* * *

"They should be here by now." Landon said nervously. "They're late."

"They're not late." Miedema countered, his voice level and calm. "They've got four more minutes to contact us before I even begin to worry."

Landon smiled behind his visor. For not being a Spartan – and what's more, for being an ONI spook – Miedema was rock-solid and as level as they came. He would have made for an excellent soldier, at least as far as the Spartan was concerned.

"Joel," Samuel's voice echoed over the intercom.

"There he is." Miedema said, flicking a switch on the panel before him. "Yeah, Sam? You guys ready to rock?"

"We're in position to split. Blaine and Steph just took off. Zeke's getting ready to go, and I'll be moving in your direction."

"Yes sir," Joel answered. "Send me a warning twenty-seconds before the bombs go off and give me a green light when you want me to bring her down." He tapped the control panel of the Phantom lightly.

"Will do, Joel," Samuel said. "Landon: hope you're ready."

"We're Spartans, Samuel," he answered with a smile, "born ready."

"Good to hear. Let the games begin."

* * *

**Author's Notes: And that's all, folks! Got an exam on Monday, a speech and a paper to write, plus filming for a project to do (all this week), but I'm gonna try and write something for you by Thursday. If I DON'T post by Thursday, there's a good chance Friday I will, if the chapter flows okay (having a bit of trouble right now). If you don't hear from me Friday...it won't come this weekend. My girlfriend's last Prom is this Saturday, and she will have my full, undivided attention. :) You all have my apologies...but not hers, lol. She's entitled after the weeks on end I spend at college, away from her. :P**

**Thanks guys! It's 3:30 in the morning, and I'm calling it! Night ladies and gentlemen.**

**- Raptor  
**


	13. Chapter 12: Ultimatum

**Author's Notes: Well...what to say...**

**Yeah, I got nothing. Look, I won't make excuses, mostly on account of I have a life too, and I never wanted this to get thrown on the backburner, but I had an obscenely summer that included working 2nd shift at a factory job (not that I'm complaining - it was good money. That being said, I'm not a morning person (AT ALL) and it's hard to write at 2:00 am after getting home from work). But, as I've told you all, I'm not quitting on this. And now, I hope to get back into the swing of things. I'm back at school, the rush has finally calmed a bit, and I'm excited to keep going (a little inspiration is nice too). I hope to buy Reach soon, which will throw me into a whole new fit of writing madness, I'm sure.**

**In the meantime: I'm sorry. I know you're all probably ready to stab me and feed me to the wolves (those of you who bothered to wait for me to return). But, plain and simple: I needed money over the summer. This doesn't pay me a dime, making tires did (not that I enjoyed it). Those of you who are still around, I have one more apology: this chapter will likely not be "up to par" for me, so to speak. I believe it's okay, but I don't have much in the way of an editor (people I rely on are busy busy nowadays). And it's been a few months...so I'm a little out of practice. Cut me a break - it'll get better in a hurry.**

**REVIEWS: (Yes, I did just skip any intro into them on account of I want to post this and sit back and relax for a few minutes, lol)**

**Niroak: lol, sorry you had to wait so long... "I want more already" ...I'm such a terrible person.**

**Mhop12: Hey! Where was the spam? I can promise you I didn't post by Friday... :( lol, maybe you meant this Friday?**

**Drake S. Hellion: I like Zeke too, lol. Easiest character to write (and it shows, I know, in screentime). Also, thank you very much, but I believe Nylund trumps me...pretty much across the board. Still, I very much appreciate it!**

**Ildina Dusklea: LOL, I laughed so hard reading your comment. I loved Fusion, but I hated that freakin' SA-X. Every SINGLE room... "Don't let it be here, don't let it be here, don't let it be-CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP!"  
And we will be seeing Vic again...but you're gonna have to give it a little bit, sorry. :(**

**xcavars: Hey, look, you said "2 months" and I had it out in a week, so I just doubled the wait for the next one...right? ;) So sorry, lol. Hope you're still around. :)**

**killerman83ca: Yeah, finally got payback. Took a long time...but it always comes around. And lol, don't worry - I didn't post right away, by any means (though I wish I had). *sigh***

**Suliac Griffin: First of all: I am so sorry. I hate it when a hiatus just happens to coincide with anyone's longer reviews...because I feel like they deserve an answer, as much as everyone deserves to know what happens next.  
Anyway, thank you very much for the compliments on the character-building and on the scene with Rex - I had to go out on a limb with that one, so to speak, but it was received well. As for the picks:  
1. Yeah...I found it very hard to explain easily, and I'll be going back and fixing it as soon as I can make my brain work in such a way as to explain it properly.  
2. ...curse you and your nazi grammar picks. ;)  
Thanks Griffin!**

**1 way ticket: Hey love. Took me a while, but no more cheap shots about me not writing!  
1. You are FAR above "fangirl" status. ;)  
2. Don't encourage their fantasies. You know better. lol  
3. Thank you. I'm glad I can get some credit somewhere in the realm of Zulu Company's timeline for uploading (even if it doesn't come from being a writer on a dedicated schedule, lol).  
4. Thank you again. I take that as a compliment. :) That was essentially what I wanted from the whole scene, and it sounds like it came off well.  
5. Thanks love! :) Glad I have one person (at least) still with me at this point.**

**RisingSunDit: Thank you very much for the compliment! I've said it once or twice, but I'm really thrilled with how the last chapter was received, as I expected more critical feedback. Still, it's nice to have things go off without a hitch (for the most part). :)**

**armoured-blade: I'm honestly surprised I didn't get as much harassment from you as I expected. ;) Alas, I suppose you have a life of your own too, no? I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter about Rex, but I'm sorry to tell you that you won't get much in the way of answers as to how he survived this long, at least until the ONI bit later. And don't worry about the body...Zeke's smart enough to make it useless to the Flood. Thanks Ben!**

**FireWolfFred: You pointed out something with the chapter about Rex that I was really hoping for. How much are the Spartans' mentalities being forced to change to deal with the Flood? Because you're absolutely right - it was almost inhuman, even for Ezekiel. Also, to answer your question: they will be getting toys at some point, but most things now are in the prototype stage for them, only to improve. Thanks!**

**Barca: I'm glad the scene went off as well as it did. I really expected a lot more trouble than it really gave me. And I must agree with you to an extent on Sam: he is one of the "red-flag" kind of guys that you just wonder how much he'll put up with before he just snaps. As for Miedema - I plan to delve a little into the world of ONI when it actually comes about. For now, he plays driver, but I'm really hoping to at least make a little more of him before the story's over. Though, we've all seen how I am with non-Spartan characters, so I won't make any promises. :( Thanks for reviewing!**

**I hump gerbils: Umm, honestly, I would rather you didn't. That being said, I cannot tell you what is and isn't acceptable, so I just ask that, if you do, please respect my individual rights to my work. I don't claim any kind of profit on it, but it is nice to say, "yeah, I wrote that" (ON SOME OF IT). So, please just give me my fair props and let me lay my claim. Thanks, and enjoy. :)**

**IG0tskill99: To answer your question, and this is up to some interpretation, but from what I read in the Halo novels (specifically Halo: The Flood), it takes a fair bit of time for the Flood to access any significant amounts of memories of the host. Jason was possessed for a very short time and consequently was not probed for information in the way that most Flood hosts might have been. Thanks for the critical thinking! :) Hope you like what's to come.**

**DoctorG27: I will be using some things from Reach, I'm sure. However, I don't yet have the game, so it's harder to know for certain what would work. **

**RandomMan: Yes, I suppose she is. :P lol**

**ching965: I was really looking for a new kind of character exploitation in that chapter - getting outside the box in ways that I hadn't tried. I'll be doing it more throughout this book, and it worked very well the first time around, so I'm happy to be able to try again. As for the ONI base - well, I guess we'll all wait and see, huh? :) Thanks very much!**

**Woodzy14: Uh, about that...well, there's still work being done on the first story. Rewriting is an immense chore and it never feels right to me, even after it's done. Add to that my lack of a proofreader now that Samson has a wife and a job and schooling (Jeez - going and getting a life on me, right? lol), and it makes for a long, tedious process. That being said, no part of the delay should be blamed on anyone but me - plain and simple, I haven't had time to get everything right, and when I do and I try - it doesn't come out that way. I'd be remiss to submit anything other than what I would consider my best work.  
Oh, and don't worry - the super-smell freaks several people out, LOL**

**Bombsty: Hey, sorry it took so long. :( Hope I can brighten your day again if you ever see this. :)**

**The Poet: Thank you! And as for the advice: it's a piece that I do try to follow when I can. However, sometimes (as is the case in this chapter) the viewpoint switches around a lot to cover various tasks occuring at once. I would prefer to do it differently, but in splitting the team, it's difficult to do. I apologize if this makes it hard to understand sometimes - I do my best to clarify the POV and the situation when I change over. Thanks for your input!**

**Halo fangirl: lol, I'll be sure to tell him that. ;)  
And no...sorry...romance really isn't something I'm accustomed to writing, lol. That and Spartans don't have an active sex-drive...makes relationships strained, at best. :P**

**Hotshot: lol, thank you very much. As for the second bit...well, see the comment to fangirl. :) ^^^^^^^**

**Redflame101: Yeah...sorry about that. :(**

**Rathnier Nithvolr: The next chapter...is right here. :) Sorry for the wait...see above, lol. Busy busy.  
And thank you very much for the compliment - I try to keep up to date and knowledgeable on anything I put in. After all, if I don't get it, how can I expect to explain it in such a way that anyone else will? lol**

**Vault Boy: First, I apologize. You left me several good, solid reviews, and your response is going to be fairly condensed since I emailed you about the longest one anyway some time ago. That and it's almost 3:00 am and I really, really want to go bed. lol  
Thank you for all the compliments, and especially for the critical thinking and criticisms that I did take to heart (as we discussed a bit) and am trying to work on to the extent that I can. Some characters will always be "support roles", but all do deserve a spot in the limelight, and I will be trying to even it out in this story especially. I hope you're still around, and can give me some more feedback somewhere down the line. :)**

**Eternity of Night:  
First: Sorry I haven't posted in a long time. ;) Hopefully with as busy as you were and being unable to review, you can understand to an extent my busy schedule and lack of time to write. lol  
Second: Mine too. :)  
Third: Best of luck to you! I would look forward to reading such a tale. :) As for the characters...well, you're more than welcome. Just find new names, okay? ;)  
Fourth: Thank you very much!  
P.S. - Don't worry, I ALWAYS do that.**

**Angry: I am sorry! Trust me, I didn't want it to take this long. But, alas, I have a life too, and it gets really hectic sometimes. That's the only reasoning I have. :(**

**Peaslums: No! I have not abandoned Zulu, nor will I. :) It make take me a while, but I do always return. As for your question:  
That's actually something I put a lot of thought into. The fact is, New Mombassa is not likely to be heavily guarded, simply because it's a smoking crater. lol. Los Angeles is, but they have to go there to deal with the ship and to get the the bombs anyway. That essentially leaves Sydney, which you're correct - is packed with Flood. The reason that Samuel elects to go there is because of Gravemind: the brain of the Flood is thought to be in or under the Hive, sealed away and impervious to all but a dedicated attack on it. This is the current reasonsing, but there WILL be additional discussion on the idea between the Spartans and, while they will end up there (as the Preview from The Last Stand showed), their reasons will be revealed in time. I apologize for the cryptic answer, but I don't like spoilers. :)  
Thanks very much!**

**AND, with that being said...cut me a little slack, please. I'm out of practice. I'm hoping to get back in the swing of things and be up to par before the next one comes out. :)**

**Try to enjoy it...lol**

**

* * *

**

********

Chapter 12:

– **Ultimatum –**

**2200 Hours - July 18, 2553**

**Abandoned Warehouse - Los Angeles, California**

Stephanie shook her head, staring into the desolate ruins of Los Angeles from the corner of a large, mostly-intact warehouse, just out of sight of dozens of Combat Forms that were patrolling the streets ahead. To the left, she could see a Covenant Cruiser almost a mile away, and to the right, at a similar distance, Samuel's identification tag appeared on her HUD. He was close to the remains of the facility that stored the NOVA warheads, if he wasn't there already.

"How exactly are we supposed to do this?" she asked. "Stealth is not exactly the specialty for either of us."

Blaine shook his head. "Camo-cloaks," he answered bluntly and with more than a bit of irritation in his voice. "We're supposed to use the UNSC camouflage to make it from here to the checkpoint."

"Which is?"

"The checkpoint is a quarter-mile-long parking lot for Hornets and Banshees that the Flood have commandeered. There were buildings on it when they first got here, but Gravemind made a point to have the whole area cleared. Now there are an upwards of six-hundred aircraft sitting around."

Stephanie whistled quietly. "Wow."

"We've got three warheads." Blaine said. "We drop one here, another one halfway down the line, and a third one in the lot. They've got a one-point-two kilometer radius, which means that they should stop short of the Cruiser on our left and also keep from scorching Sam to our right."

"I still don't understand this." Stephanie admitted. "We have enough nukes to level half the city. Why aren't we taking as many as possible?"

"Sam just wants the bombs." Blaine answered. "The three warheads we're planting will detonate all at once and create a wall of explosions almost three miles long and just shy of two miles in diameter. Most of the Flood are on our left, near the Cruiser. When we bomb this, we'll take out the closest ones to Sam's position and buy him some time to move the NOVA warheads." He paused, taking a breath. "Make sense?"

Stephanie shrugged. "Samuel knows best." She said with a smile. "Guess now we wait, huh?"

"For the signal," Blaine finished. "We wait for the signal."

* * *

"How long?" Samuel asked quietly, waiting on Gael to work her digital magic on the twin titanium plates sealing the top of the elevator shaft that housed the NOVA Warheads. The facility that Zulu Company had infiltrated months before – in another life, it seemed – had been all but obliterated from the ground up. However, the two most important parts of the structure: the elevator shaft and the backup generators - were both kept underground, safe from surface-bombings.

That's where he was now: underground. The facility's maintenance tunnel to the backup generators was cramped, narrow, and less than sixty feet under the surface, but it was also out of sight from the patrolling Flood, and that was what made it all possible. Now all that was left was for Gael to hack into the systems, circumvent a few passwords and encryptions, and open the doors.

In reality, Samuel couldn't have asked for a more perfect setup. With the warheads a complete mystery to the Flood and unmarked on any database they might have found, the generators were totally useless to them and – in turn – were left alone. Add to that the knowledge that the seals to the shaft were designed to blend in perfectly with the titanium floor around them, and there was a chance – just a small one – that his plan might actually work.

"Another minute, maybe," the AI answered. "It's not exactly like turning on the lights in the Prowler, you know."

Samuel nodded, looking over his shoulder to make sure that none of the Flood he had passed on the way in had gotten curious. Sure enough, the tunnel was still empty. Somehow, though, it didn't help to ease his nerves. The Spartans were surrounded by somewhere in the neighborhood of two-hundred-thousand Flood Forms, separated from each other, and willingly about to reveal their presence in the most attention-grabbing way possible: bombing Gravemind's ship.

"Okay," the AI said. "We're all set. The doors open when I say so."

Sam took a deep breath. "Alright. Let's get this party started." He paused, focusing on Landon's tag. "Get ready, Landon. We're about to make a lot of enemies."

* * *

"Left turn up ahead," Demon said, directing Ezekiel toward the Cruiser that was still more than half a mile away.

Zeke had counted on high security, but the sheer number of Flood around the ship was absolutely obscene. They were everywhere, watching every angle. Even in the dark of night, his cloaking technology was all that was keeping him undetected.

That and, of course, Demon's satellite images telling him where the greatest concentrations of Flood were.

Ezekiel saw a pair of Combat Forms at the end of the street he was on and quickly ducked into a large house on the right, checking the entrance for signs of Flood inhabitants. When he was convinced there were none, he sprinted for the second floor, found an open window, and jumped, hitting the ground in complete silence.

"Go straight," Demon said. "Follow the fence up ahead and hang a right at the end. Watch for Ranged Forms on the walls. We're getting close."

The Spartan scowled. As if Combat Forms and the little damned crawling bubbles weren't enough, now he was going to have to watch each wall and every nook and cranny for the worthless, undead freaks.

"Zeke, you there?" It was Sam.

"Yeah, Sam." He said, not slowing down or losing focus on the path in front of him. "What do you need?"

"Just checking in." He answered. "You get those two warheads planted in the southern part of the city yet?"

"Of course I have." Zeke said. "When did you give that order? Twenty minutes ago?"

He heard Samuel scoff lightly. "We're almost ready. I'm gonna send Blaine and Steph out. You are close enough for a little extra heat, right? I mean, it's been like twenty minutes."

Zeke rolled his eyes. "By all means," he said sarcastically. "Not like I don't have eight million of these bastards watching for someone just like me already."

"I knew I could count on you." Samuel said, clearly totally conscious of the sarcasm but acting oblivious anyway. "Whatever you do, just don't get caught."

"Thanks, I'll be sure to remember that."

* * *

"Yeah, Sam. I got it."

"Well?" Stephanie asked, clearly getting impatient.

"We just got the green light." Blaine answered. "Let's get this done and get the Hell outta Dodge."

"You got my vote." She said happily.

Blaine nodded, taking the Fury Tactical Nuke in his hand and hiding it under an overturned worktable, behind a broken computer monitor. The odds of the Flood finding it amidst all the junk were slim, at best.

"Okay," he said. "You plant the one you've got when we get halfway. I'll cover you and keep their attention. Then we hightail it to the checkpoint."

"Then let's get a move on!" She then promptly wrapped herself in the UNSC camouflage they were both given and crept out of the safety of the warehouse. Blaine did the same, silently cursing the tiptoeing, "stealthy" bullshit approach they were taking as they walked further from the building and into the dark streets of Los Angeles.

And as he looked around, he hated the approach more and more. There were hundreds of them – maybe thousands – just that he could see in the immediate vicinity. Some were clinging to exterior walls; some were hiding in the windows or under splits in the pavement; others were just wandering the streets seemingly aimlessly, doing Gravemind's bidding without question or even thought.

"This is stupid." He said quietly.

"Be quiet!" Stephanie growled, obviously nervous and on-edge. "Thankfully, we only have a couple of miles to travel."

They walked in silence for some time, creeping through the darkness at a snail's pace, trying to avoid the Flood wherever possible. Still, it was easier said than done. There were other factors that no one had even considered, like-

"Since when did the Demon's weather report call for high winds?" Blaine snapped. He was still trying to hold the cloak tight to his armor, even as the gentle breeze that had been blowing began to transform into something greater and infinitely more dangerous to the two Spartans.

"Just keep going." Stephanie said, and Blaine could tell she was trying to keep both her calm and his. "We'll make it. We're already more than a quarter of a mile in."

Blaine scowled. This was asinine. Somehow, it just didn't sit well with him to split the team and then delve deep into enemy territory on the notion that everything would go perfectly and-

"We've been spotted!" She shouted, suddenly throwing the cloak down and bringing her twin Maulers to bear as a dozen Combat Forms charged the two of them.

"You gotta be freakin' kidding me!" Blaine shouted, feeling the camouflage catch on a joint in his armor. When it wouldn't come easily, he ripped the thin sheet all the way down, then rolled it up as thick as he could get it. Blaine caught the first undead by the neck, tearing the cloak…but also ripping the weakened, deteriorating muscles and tearing the head clean off.

"Get off me!" Stephanie shouted, and Blaine turned to watch her grab a Combat Form that had jumped her from behind. She pulled the monster up, over her shoulder, and slammed it into the ground hard enough to break bones, then stomped her foot down on its chest to finish the job.

Blaine noticed that the Flood's second wave hadn't hit them yet, even though he could hear them screaming all around them, and he took the chance. "Okay!" he shouted, grabbing Stephanie by the arm, "we gotta move! Run!"

When she took off running, he immediately let go of her arm and pulled the Gravity Hammer from his back, leveling it at the horde of forces gathering before them. Even with the combined firepower of two Spartans, it was going to be quite a feat for them to escape.

"On the bright side," Stephanie yelled, firing the twin Maulers again and again. "At least they'll assume we're headed for the ship, so we should be able to avoid a good portion of them."

"Oh, that's just great!" Blaine shouted back, slamming the hammer down to clear the immediate road ahead from the dozens of infested former-humans that were moving in on them from all directions. "How the Hell did they see us, anyway?"

"The wind!" she answered. "It pulled the cloak up; I saw both your legs from the knees down!"

"Seriously?" His eyes went wide, not with amazement or awe, but with pure irritation and annoyance. "Our plan went to Hell because of the God-forsaken wind? That's bullshit!"

"What are you yelling about?" Samuel's voice abruptly echoed in his ears.

"We've been spotted, that's what! And now we've got eight million of these sons of bitches on our asses! I knew we should have done this the old-fashioned way!"

Sam's tone changed drastically. "I'll get you some backup. We'll pull out if we have to and regroup-"

"The Hell we will!" Blaine roared, putting the hammer on his back and bringing the Rocket Launcher to bear. He and Stephanie had sprinted from a commercial district into what appeared to be a very low-budget residential one, and now they were making their way through the remains of the slums surrounding the formerly UNSC-controlled part of town.

And finally, after minutes of running that had seemed like hours with the Flood trying to catch them from all sides and angles, he could see the skeleton of a home that appeared to be mostly intact. The windows were boarded up and the walls looked solid – the perfect place to buy time and hide the second bomb.

"Blaine, just find a place to hide out and hold on. I'll get Landon and Joel and we'll be right over."

"I did not follow you into this Hellhole just to be grabbed by my pants and pulled out in some bullshit, half-assed retreat! Now get the damn bombs! We'll deal with the Flood!"

"Stephanie?"

"We'll take care of it, Sam." She said calmly. "Don't worry about us."

"Be careful, guys. Call me if you need anything."

"Well, a larger amount of ammunition for future missions would be nice!" Blaine snapped. "Along with that, no more pussyfooting around and tiptoeing through the ranks like a little bi-"

"Blaine!"

"Like Zeke! No more sneaking around like Zeke!"

"I get it," Samuel answered. "Just finish the job. We'll talk about it later."

"Damn right we will." He severed the connection and focused on Stephanie. "We'll hit that house up there. Go inside, check for freaks, then hide the bomb."

"They'll be all over us." She said, not really as a protest but as a statement of fact.

"You just leave that to me."

* * *

"All too easy," Ezekiel could only grin as over a dozen Combat Forms sprinted through the halls of the Covenant Cruiser, toward the entrance that he'd come through only minutes before. "What kind of security lets a heavily-armed, black-armored soldier with almost two megatons of explosive yield just wander onto their escape-ship?"

"The lousy kind?" Demon asked.

Zeke rolled his eyes. "That was my point. And no one asked your opinion."

More Combat Forms charged by, completely oblivious to the Spartan's hiding place in a darkened storage room jutting off from the main hall. It was sad, how easy it was to infiltrate such a "well-defended" ship, as Samuel had put it. And somehow, Ezekiel just knew that Gravemind was looking for him specifically. He had to know that Zeke would be the one to break his new toys.

"I can hack into the security network." Demon said. "We'll have full access if you give me thirty seconds."

Zeke scowled. "And Gravemind will know we're here."

"No," the AI countered. "I can do it from an observation standpoint - I won't touch anything. He'll never know there's a ghost in the system...at least, not until it's far too late."

Ezekiel silently weighed the options. "Ah, what the Hell?" He whisperd. "You know what they say, Gravemind," he said, sliding the neuro-chip into a terminal on the wall. "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." He grinned coldly and used his few seconds to hide one of the Fury-Class Warheads in the confines of the storage room on the other side of the hall.

Now things were getting interesting.

* * *

"How's it going back there?" Blaine asked from the open front door of the house, where he had been standing for the past thirty seconds, fending off God-only-knew how many of the undead monsters trying to flood into the house.

"Almost done!" Stephanie shouted back. "Just trying to find a safe spot!"

Blaine rolled his eyes as the horde continued swinging at him and the frame around the door with their disgusting tentacles. He'd long since put his hammer away, and was now just using his hands and occasionally his feet to keep the horrors at bay. The fact was, they couldn't surround him, and with only one or two unarmed Combat Forms swinging at a time, there just wasn't a damn thing they could do to him.

However, when the horde was just too thick to see through, Blaine worried that something – anything – could go wrong, so he reared back and punched the nearest form as hard as he could, sending it spiraling into its allies behind. Then he pulled out the hammer, manually switched it to a high-tier power setting, and slammed it into the mass of rotting flesh-

And, for once, he was pleasantly surprised. The force behind the blow was more than triple what he was used to. Each and every mindless freak in a fifteen-meter radius in front of him was reduced to dust; the very foundation of the house he was defending shook like they were in an earthquake; even the Tank Form that was still just outside of the kill-range stumbled and lost its footing in the intense sphere of altered gravity.

"Oh, Hell yeah!" he said, nodding and putting the hammer away. He punched the first Combat Form to reach the door square in the chest, popping the Infection Form within and sending it screaming to the ground.

Something roared in front of him, and he watched the Tank Form stand back up and level its shoulder, directing its body right at him like a lineman. Then it charged.

"Come on, you big bastard!" He yelled, squaring off with the monstrous hulk. But when the last second arrived, Blaine only smiled, jumping to the left and priming a pair of Plasma Grenades before sticking them to the monster's back as it ran by. He spun around and backhanded the first Combat Form that had meant to follow the beast into the house, hitting it hard enough to completely dislodge its loosely-connected head from the rest of its body.

Somewhere behind him, he heard a roar, an explosion, and silence.

"You guys need a new trick."

CRASH!

One of the boarded up windows to his left all but exploded as a Combat Form ripped the old plywood from the frame. Blaine didn't even turn from the doorway; he just grabbed a Spike Grenade from his armor and threw it hard to the left, nailing the creature on instinct and listening to it scream as the explosive detonated in a flurry of white-hot spikes.

"We're set!" Stephanie yelled. "You ready?"

"Can be," Blaine answered, looking at the horde that had gathered once more outside the door. "Sorry guys," he said, "party's over." With that, he primed two Frag Grenades and lobbed them through the door, slamming it shut and locking it in an instant. There was a muffled explosion and, moments later, the pounding on the door started again in full force.

"No exit out back," Stephanie said coolly. "I checked."

"Then we make one." Blaine said, leveling his shoulder just as the Tank Form had done earlier. Stephanie copied the stance and they charged the back wall.

* * *

Landon was pacing inside the Phantom. He couldn't help it. He was suited up with the Jump-Pack attached to his armor, waiting for a signal that – if things didn't go exactly according to plan – would likely never even come. And that was his job: wait.

Wait.

"This is shit!" He snapped, causing Miedema to flinch in his seat, only a few feet away.

"What're you yelling about?"

"I'm just supposed to stand here! Stand here and do nothing! While, what? Everyone else puts their lives on the line?"

"They'll be fine." The spook said with absolute confidence. "You're all Spartans, remember? And, from the stories I've heard, you're the best in the business." He shrugged. "But you guys bicker, argue, fight, and flip out about the weirdest things."

"Comes with the territory," Landon said with a ghost of a smile. "We're a weird group."

"I'll say." Miedema answered.

"You guys paying attention up there?" Sam's voice suddenly echoed throughout the Phantom. "We'll be setting up shop here shortly."

"Just waiting around," Landon said, working to keep any trace of anxiety out of his voice. "Are you sure there's nothing I should be doing?"

"Other than waiting for my signal and breathing? No. Nothing else."

Landon rolled his eyes. "Okay." He said. "Just let me know when."

"Soon." With that, Samuel cut the connection.

* * *

"There's the lot!" Stephanie said happily, firing the Fuel Rod Cannon blindly behind her. "Thank God!"

"Don't thank anyone yet," Blaine growled. "We're still a couple hundred yards and a takeoff away from being out of this mess."

"Hey! If I wanted that kind of attitude, I'd have requested Zeke as a partner!"

Blaine scoffed loudly. "He'd have left you alone and sprinted there in his damn cloaking technology already."

"Blaine! That's terrible!"

"Uh huh," he muttered, smashing the hammer down on an unlucky group of Combat Forms that meant to block their way. "When we get up here, run to the middle and hop in the cockpit of a Hornet. I'll hide the bomb and catch the jump seat. Good?"

Stephanie pondered the idea only for a second. "Yeah, works for me."

When they got closer, she realized that the whole lot was surrounded by twelve-foot-high fence – nothing major, but it was just one more obstacle, and they were already all but wading through Infection Forms and dodging the higher-tier Flood at every turn.

"You wanna get the fence?" Blaine asked. "I'll take the back for a minute."

"That I can do!" she said, turning the Fuel Rod Cannon forward. She unleashed a hail of burning green plasma and watched as the low-grade material melted like butter. "Problem solved!"

Blaine took the lead again, but the resistance seemed to lessen the closer they got to the parking lot. It was strange – Stephanie had expected that the Flood would put more forces in place to stop them from gaining any kind of firepower. But, instead, it felt like they'd actually started seeing less of the undead since planting the second bomb.

And, once they reached the fence, the Flood's assault ended almost entirely. The forces that were already behind them stayed on their heels, but nothing new came crawling out of the woodwork, as they had become accustomed to.

"Blaine," she said nervously as she turned and blasted the six remaining undead behind them, "do you notice anything wrong with this picture? I just killed the last of the Flood chasing us."

The white-armored Spartan glanced around quickly, apparently looking for spies before he hid the final bomb in an open Hornet cockpit, under the pilot's seat.

"They've got Anti-Air Guns." He said calmly. "I saw them when we were coming in here. They want us to go for the skies."

"So…what are we going to do instead? We can't stay here."

"Exactly what they want," he said. "We're flying. Grab a Hornet."

"They'll blow us apart." Even as she said it, Stephanie climbed into a nearby aircraft.

"We know something they don't," Blaine said with an outright evil laugh. "All their ground-based forces are about to get a one-way ticket straight to Hell."

* * *

"Blaine and Stephanie are in the air." Samuel said. "The bombs are about to blow. Make sure you're ready. We won't get much time."

Landon nodded, glancing to Miedema. "We're ready, Sam. Just let me-"

BOOM!

The biomechanical Spartan felt overpressure wash over the exterior of the Phantom, tilting and turning the alien craft in the open air. Through the view from the front, he could see the after-effects of a trio of small-yield nuclear warheads. The edges of three craters could be made out through the smoke, and what looked to be a hundred smaller explosions were going off on one side, opposite where the Spartans had walked in from.

_No doubt Blaine and Stephanie's doing at the parking lot. _It was sad, really: all those aircrafts, but not one would remain at the end of the fireworks.

"That's our cue!" Samuel shouted. "Get down here!"

"On it, Sam!" Miedema was suddenly pressing buttons and pulling levers with remarkable speed, and the Phantom dipped low – still cloaked – and hovered right over the now-open elevator shaft with its two hooked cables dangling below.

When the floor in the middle of the alien dropship slid open, Landon didn't even give it a second thought. He jumped feet-first, snatching the twin cables in one hand, then using the Jump-Pack to slow his descent long enough to catch the neuro-chip that Samuel threw him on the way by. In one fluid motion, Landon slid the chip into the back of his helmet and deactivated the pack.

And he fell.

* * *

Ezekiel heard and even felt the effects of the Fury Tactical Nukes, even from the safety of the Covenant Cruiser. The entire ship, as big as it was, shook like a leaf in the wind, spilling containers, objects, and Flood Combat Forms alike onto the floor in a heap.

It was amusing, really.

"Sounds like you guys finally got your asses in gear," he said quietly, focusing on his allies' tags. "Nice job, by the way."

"Thanks, Zeke!" Stephanie's voice was surprisingly lighthearted, given the occasion. "We had some trouble, but the job's done now."

"No trouble," Blaine countered. "We just had a little interference from Mother Nature. Nothing we couldn't handle."

"Good to hear," Ezekiel answered, moving quickly through an empty hall and cloaking at the last second to avoid a small force of Combat Forms on patrol. "Do me a favor and be ready to pick me up as soon as the ship goes down."

"Ten-four," Stephanie said.

"Ten-four?" Zeke asked skeptically. "Seriously?"

"I always wanted to say that."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, you've been around Landon for way too long." He smirked. "I'll catch up with you guys in a few. The second Fury's been planted. Now I just have to get out of this deathtrap of a ship."

This time it was Blaine who spoke up. "Can't you just leave the way you came in?"

Zeke scowled. "Wish I could. You two got caught and Gravemind stepped up security big-time. Gonna have to go around the central halls, have Demon deal with automated security, and move around the Flood to evade whatever I can." He shrugged. "Give me five minutes."

He cut the connection before either of them could answer, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand. There were Flood everywhere; most were just those spider-looking Stalkers, but there were Combat Forms and Infection Forms too, wandering around aimlessly, looking for any sign of an intruder.

The Spartan had his work cut out for him.

"Zeke," Demon said quietly. "There's something strange going on in here."

Ezekiel had no idea what the AI was talking about. "Meaning?"

"Go to the end of this hall, hang a left. Go down three doors and take the hall on the right. There's a large Flood patrol."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Then why in the Hell would I want to go that way?"

"I've got something else." The AI answered darkly. "I can't be sure, but I think I'm picking up humans on the security network."

Zeke's eyes went wide. "Shit!"

He took off down the hall as fast as he could and still mask his presence. Thankfully, forces were limited in the short distance he had to go, and he made the trip in under a minute.

But that was where the good news ended.

"People," he whispered, disbelief evident in his voice. "There are people here."

There were eight of them, being led by a group of fourteen unarmed Combat Forms down the hall. They were all in the same age group: roughly seventeen to twenty, just under the Spartans' ages, really.

Zeke followed them in silence. Part of him knew that he needed to get out, but he had to see where they were going, why Gravemind would keep a handful of people alive. He had to find out why.

It didn't take long for him to get his answer. At the end of the hall, a door slid open, and the people filed into it. Two Combat Forms went in with them, keeping the door open for several extra seconds. Zeke crept by, glancing inside-

"Holy shit."

There were at least three hundred of them, some kids, others adults. There were elderly men and women, and teenagers as well. Every age group, both sexes, all crammed into a large, dome-shaped room that was roughly the size of the one the Spartans had waged war in while Samuel chased the Prophet of Mercy.

And they all looked like Hell. They were malnourished, covered in bruises and scars that Zeke could make out even at a distance, and several were lying on the floor, dying, surrounded by what the Spartan had to presume were their loved ones.

The door suddenly slid shut, and the Flood walked away, leaving Ezekiel alone in the hall, staring at a glowing red doorway.

"There are people." Demon said disbelievingly. "There weren't supposed to be. There's supposed to be no one left." If Demon had had lungs, Zeke would have sworn that the AI was trying to catch its breath. "This changes the dynamic, the rules, the game. It changes the plan."

At that moment, Ezekiel pushed every ounce of compassion, care, and humanity he had to the back of his mind as he remembered what was at stake, what Zulu Company was fighting for.

And more importantly, what he was fighting for.

His eyes narrowed as he turned away, looking down the empty hall. "No it doesn't."

"We have to tell Sam."

"Not a chance!" Zeke growled. "Sam never hears of this."

"This isn't your call." The AI answered.

"I'm sorry, when did you go and grow a conscience on me?" Zeke asked bitterly.

"That's not it, and you know it. This isn't your call. It's Samuel's."

"You didn't object when I shot Jason. That wasn't my call either."

"No, it wasn't, but it was one life, and it was already lost if something wasn't done fast. You did what had to be done."

"Which is exactly what I'm going to do here."

"You committed to following Sam's orders-"

"I was given the job of blowing up this ship, and that's all there is to it." Zeke shook his head, trying to clear away what little doubt he still had.

"The situation's changed." Demon said calmly. "Samuel needs to know."

"I'm not putting this on his conscience!" The Spartan answered. "Samuel has enough to deal with already."

"I respect what you're trying to do, but he needs to know. It's his place, not yours." The AI paused. "Look, I'm normally all for the loner style. I back you one-hundred-percent, because it suits me as well as it does you. But there's a lot at stake here, and you vowed to follow Sam's lead on this."

"What's he gonna say, Demon?" Ezekiel growled. "On one hand, his bleeding heart conquers his brain, he deems that it's not "worth it" to sacrifice innocent lives and we leave the ship intact. The Flood leave here with those people and Gravemind either infects them or uses them as labor, which is likely what he's been doing this whole time! Our bodies last longer than his Combat Forms."

"That's not-"

"On the other hand, Sam gives the order to blow this place sky-high and has to live with that guilt for the rest of his life. There is no other option! We can't save them. There are hundreds of them, all unarmed, and thousands upon thousands of Flood outside. Hell, we don't even have a way to transport them." He paused, catching his breath. "We can't leave the ship intact; it's almost space-worthy. This is the right choice…the only one we have."

"It's not our decision," Demon answered, unwavering.

"You're my AI and I'm telling you that you will tell no Spartan about what's inside this ship, period. Not one, understand?"

"I'm not agreeing to-"

"Yes you are!" Zeke was fuming now. He couldn't keep talking to this stupid, two-bit pain-in-the-ass, or he was going to start having doubts himself. "It has to be done. It's going to be done. And you're not going to say a word to Sam or any other Spartan. Do I make myself clear?"

Finally, Demon conceded. "Fine. Understood."

"Good." Zeke said, nodding and steeling himself for the task ahead. He pushed the images of the people he'd just seen as far out of his mind as he could, taking a deep breath and focusing solely on his goal: to watch Gravemind's precious ship detonate. "Now let's get this shit over with."

* * *

Landon touched down on the elevator floor with a relatively soft impact, cables still in-hand. He had gone over the plan a hundred times in his mind, so much so that it almost felt like autopilot when he pulled the neuro-chip from his helmet and slid it into a slot in one of the three giant, rectangular cases in front of him.

Even after hearing about the NOVA Warheads, it was intimidating to be in such a confined space with three of them. And it had nothing to do with the fact that each case was a seven-foot-tall rectangle that was as thick as a truck. No, it had more to do with the knowledge that there was more raw power in this small, bedroom-sized space than in a thousand UNSC Cruisers. It was positively absurd.

The case to his left suddenly clicked and locks began to split apart as Gael finished her work. When the activity stopped, Landon removed the chip and slid it into the next case.

"Okay," he said, eyeing the now-unlocked case carefully. His hands kept moving toward it, but he consciously pulled them back, afraid he should touch the wrong button or switch and never live long enough to know it. But, after almost twenty seconds, he found a latch and pulled it apart-

The four sides of the case suddenly detatched, revealing a much smaller bomb that Landon had originally guessed. It was still rectangularly shaped, but the explosive itself was roughly the same size as a Covenant Anti-Matter Bomb.

_Good thing, too, _he mused, looking at the fallen case, _we'd have been hard-pressed to fit two of these on the Phantom._

The second case began to click just like the first, and when it finished, Landon pulled the chip out and repeated the process once more. Confident this time, he immediately grabbed the latch and watched the sides of the case fall to the ground.

He looked up the shaft, but couldn't find Samuel's tag. He focused on the icon in the corner of his HUD that also served to link him to his team leader. "Sam," he said. "Two of them are out of their cases and ready for pickup."

He waited for a response, but one never came. Instead, the third case suddenly clicked open. Landon grabbed the chip and placed it back inside his helmet.

"I can't reach Sam," he said.

"Not at all?" Gael asked.

Landon shook his head, though he wasn't sure why. The AI had no idea. "No," he said finally. "Nada."

Gael took a few seconds to answer. "We're too far below the ground." She said. "Without a dedicated communications satellite like the UNSC used, there's no way to tell him we're ready for pickup."

"Are we ready?" Landon asked.

"Yes we are," the AI answered. "The two bombs on the left are set to go and the third one is set to detonate by remote or at the expiration of the timer."

Landon nodded, grabbing the twin cables from the Phantom and hooking each one to a bomb. "Sounds good. Now if only we had a way to get out of here."

"Don't suppose you have a flare?" Gael asked skeptically.

The Spartan rolled his eyes. "No," he said bluntly. "I do not have a flare."

Then, suddenly, he had an idea.

* * *

"I can't reach him." Samuel said, staring at the hole in the ground. "He's probably trying to reach us too."

"How long do you think he'll be?" Miedema asked. "I doubt have much time left anyway."

He shook his head. "I have no idea. Maybe we can just-"

Samuel felt the force of the wind against his armor as a rocket suddenly came soaring straight up, out of the hole, and into the air above. After half a second to process what had just happened, the brown-armored Spartan immediately understood Landon's signal.

"I'd say that's our cue!" He shouted. "Pull him up!"

Miedema's answer was a quick "got it", and the cables began to quickly be pulled up and out of the hole, hopefully with the bombs intact. Samuel couldn't help but smile at his teammate's resourcefulness. That was an extremely deep hole, and Landon had found a way to send a signal that Samuel would be sure to see, even at a distance…

The thought hit him like a freight train. That rocket had gone straight up, into the air, and God only knew how high it would go or where it would land. In the time that was leaving a trail of burning fuel, however, anyone – or anything – could see it, and know exactly where it came from.

"Hurry up, Joel." Sam said, not bothing to hide the nervousness in his voice. "We gotta go, now."

"They're almost up."

Thirty grueling seconds later, Landon emerged out of the hole, one foot on each bomb and his hands wrapped around the cables. He threw Samuel the neuro-chip, and the leading Spartan slid it into his helmet.

"Can you seal the shaft?" he asked.

"Got it on remote." Gael answered, and the metal doors slid shut. Samuel walked over and unhooked one of the bombs. Then, with Landon's help, he lifted it up and moved it into the Phantom.

"Not bad," Landon said as they came back outside to grab the second bomb.

"Not at all," Sam answered.

"Sam." It was Gael, and her voice was uneasy.

"Yeah?"

"I just got a message from Demon." She paused, and Samuel could almost feel the tension in the AI's voice. "You're not gonna like this."

* * *

Zeke weaved through the last of the ship's halls in utter silence, dodging back and forth to avoid the Flood inside and silently praying that none of them would notice the faint shimmer of his cloaking technology. Thankfully, the lights in most of the Cruiser were either dimmed or inactive, making his job possible – if not exactly easy.

He was remarkably focused, despite the memory of the civilians weighing on his conscience. It wasn't that he didn't care, didn't hate what had to be done. It was just that it had all become a part of life. The Flood owned Earth now, and a lot of people had died for it. More importantly, and perhaps more depressingly, many more would almost certainly die to stop it.

The Spartan rounded a final corner and saw an open hatch leading to the outside. Nearby, however, stood four Combat Forms, side-by-side, specifically positioned to deny anyone access, in or out. Zeke could kill them, no doubt, but getting by without being noticed? That would nigh-impossible.

"Alright! I'm going!"

Zeke turned around to see two Combat Forms escorting a solid-looking man in his forties toward the door. He had a facemask covering his nose and mouth, and was holding what looked to be a toolbox in his right hand. Zeke ducked into a nearby room, crouched behind a desk, and deactivated his cloaking.

Instantly, the Spartan's mind was in overdrive. He had to get out undetected, or the Flood would turn the ship upside down looking for his bombs. More importantly, they might step up patrols and find Samuel and the others before the NOVA Warheads were secured. The whole plan rested on him getting in and out without making a mess-

A thought flashed through his head, and he winced at the thought of it, pushing it away. There was no way he was going to use the man as bait – he'd already violated his conscience by resigning these people to their deaths.

But was there any other option? And the man would be dead in the next fifteen minutes anyway, at the most. Hell, that was only if Zeke didn't detonate the bombs by remote instead.

"What are you thinking?" Demon asked.

"No choice," he muttered, taking a deep breath and resolving himself to make sure he stuck to the plan once he started it. He activated his cloaking again.

"Zeke," the AI continued, "what are you-"

The man was less than two feet away from the Flood guarding the door, and Ezekiel made his move. Still cloaked, he grabbed the hand holding the toolbox, clenched it shut, and used it to swing the metal case into the nearest Flood with strength that must have seemed impossible to the undead watching. Then he got behind the man, pushing him as hard as could through the doorway, but being sure to keep him upright as he plowed through the two Combat Forms in the way. Zeke followed him through the hole, careful not to so much as graze the walking corpses on the way by.

The man started screaming as Zeke ran him outside. The Spartan slowed down, moved to the side, and got close enough that the man could hear him.

"I'm sorry," he said, and the man's eyes widened as he turned to face the invisible voice. "We can get-"

BANG!

The man suddenly stopped running, stopped screaming, falling to the ground and clutching the newly-formed hole in his chest. Zeke knelt down, glancing back to see a Combat Form holding a UNSC Sniper Rifle. The bastards couldn't pull off a headshot to save their undead lives, but even they could hit a man-sized target at twenty yards.

"Bastards!" Zeke growled. He was about to turn when he heard an annoying beep in his helmet. His cloaking was about to run out.

"You gotta move!" Demon yelled.

"No kidding?" Zeke snapped back, glancing around for any kind of cover. Then he found something: a large maintenance truck with an open passenger door.

Demon must've seen it too, because he quickly added, "looks like your best bet."

The Spartan ran for it, jumped in, and curled up at the foot of the seats, minimizing his profile to the best of his ability-

Just as his cloaking gave out.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered. "That was a little too close."

"Twenty-two seconds," Demon said, ignoring him, "then you can go."

* * *

"He did what?" Samuel asked, voice riddled with disbelief.

"I'm sorry," Gael answered. "If it means anything, Demon says he really is trying to help."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he said, "I'm sure."

"What now?" Gael asked.

_Good question._ Samuel thought. _What now? _

It was a terrible dilemma, and one he almost wished he didn't know about. The mission had been one-way, simple, and clear: get to Los Angeles. Get the bombs. Blow up the ship. And, as Blaine had added, piss Gravemind off something fierce.

Now there was something else. They had the bombs, but what of the ship? Could they rationalize ending the lives of three-hundred people? Civilians? People who had already suffered immeasurably? What right did they have to decide their fates? What right did Samuel have to give them the order to do so?

And that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was that Samuel knew the answer. He knew what had to be done. There was no saving these people. Zulu Company didn't even have a way to transport them, or a safe haven for them to go to on the off-chance they could be successfully evacuated.

No, there was only decision to be made.

But that didn't change the fact that Ezekiel had completely circumvented the structure of the team, that he had intentionally undermined Samuel's authority once more.

"And this is the last time." Samuel said quietly.

"I'm sorry?" Gael asked, clearly confused.

"Contact Zeke."

* * *

It had taken another three minutes, but Ezekiel was finally exactly where he wanted to be: almost a mile from the ship, cloaked in the middle of the road, staring right at the Covenant Cruiser that was about to be reduced to ash at the snap of his fingers.

And, to make it all even better, there were eight Combat Forms patrolling this particular road. Sure, there were likely hundreds more within a few-hundred-yard radius, but most of them were standing right near that giant explosive paperweight.

Ezekiel crossed his arms at his chest and deactivated his cloaking.

"'Sup freaks?" he asked loudly.

The first one lunged at him immediately, but was cut off – first at the knees, then at the neck. A second one never got close enough to swing, as a shot from the M6G on his thigh penetrated its chest.

The other six now gave him a wide berth.

"Spartan, why have you come?" Gravemind's voice echoed in his helmet.

"Just came with a proposition for you." Zeke answered. "You know, between friends." He didn't bother to hide the smugness in his voice.

"You wish to distract me while the others invade my ship."

"Not at all," he answered, shrugging. "I just wanna talk."

"Then…talk." The irritation in the creature's voice was beyond evident – it was downright obvious.

"This whole plan," Zeke said, "going into space, taking over colonies, assimilating more people, more races into your own…what for? Why bother?"

"Zeke!"

Sam's voice was enough to throw a major wrench into the Spartan's cool demeanor. Even as he heard Gravemind's voice, he forced his mind to tune it out, focusing only on the other Spartan.

"Sam?"

"Got a message from Gael," Samuel growled. The tone in his voice was impossible to miss.

Zeke sighed. "Shit."

"You got that right," Sam added, and Ezekiel could feel the raw anger just below the surface. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that we have a job to do." He paused. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ship to detonate."

"Nothing else to say, Spartan?" Gravemind asked.

"I've got plenty left in me," Zeke retorted.

"You'll blast that ship when I give the order, and not a second sooner! Do you understand me? There are people in there, and it's not your call to make!"

It was at this point that Ezekiel noticed something – the Flood nearby hadn't moved, but there were shadows in the distance. Combat Forms and Pure Forms alike were coming out of the woodwork around him, moving in from abandoned structures and surrounding him from all directions. He'd been so wrapped up in listening to Samuel that he hadn't even noticed the ones behind him, sealing off his retreat.

"Well," he said bitterly, "you better give your order soon, or you'll be a Spartan short. I was kind of banking on it as a distraction, and you're changing my game-plan a little bit."

"Zeke-"

"Whatever, Samuel!" He answered. "Just let me know the verdict. I gotta keep talking and buying time, or I won't get the chance to argue with you about it later."

"Well?" Gravemind asked, and Ezekiel noticed the Flood slowing converging in on him. He had to make a decision fast, but without the bombs, how was he supposed to draw the attention of every undead in the area?

"Sorry about that," He answered coolly. "Technical difficulty. As I was saying: why bother? You have a perfectly nice rock right here." He kicked the pavement lightly. "Space…it's so dark, so cold. And then there are all those additional people you'd have to supervise. Add to that all the extra biomass you'd amass – I'm telling you, you'll put on weight. Plus the weather here is just flawless. You have your tainted atmosphere set up and your freaks are happy and healthy…well, for the undead, anyway."

"You are not as clever as you would believe, human."

"Oh, you have no idea how clever I am." Zeke was about to speak again when Samuel's voice returned.

"Fine," he said coldly.

Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"

"Do it." The connection was cut.

Zeke grinned behind his helmet, not because he liked what had to be done, but because he finally had an order to do it and get it over with. Regardless of morality, like it or not, it was time to make some noise.

"Oh, and one more thing," he added, turning away from the ship and walking slowly toward the wall of Flood that had been waiting behind him. He put his right hand up in the air loosely. "You need a new ship. The Cruiser's on fire."

He snapped his fingers, smiling wickedly.

* * *

BOOM!

"That's us!" Stephanie shouted as the Covent Cruiser suddenly detonated in a bright blue and red series of explosions, shooting smoke, ash, and debris all over and sending waves of overpressure washing over the entire area nearby.

"Yeah," Blaine said, "let's go get smartass!"

The Hornet his was riding on suddenly lifted off, and he grabbed the bar on the side to hold on. Against her will, he'd made Stephanie pilot the craft, freeing up the jump-seat for his own amusement. It was a Blaine-thing: he preferred the hands-on approach anyway.

They didn't have to fly far; Zeke had marked his stopping point for them before he'd ever entered the ship, so it was no surprise when they flew overhead and saw an upwards of several hundred undead circling the Spartan, preparing to attack.

"No doubt Gravemind is finishing up his monologue about now," Blaine said. "We gotta grab Zeke, and fast!"

"Can do!" Stephanie answered, and the Hornet dipped low before firing a set of missiles into a mass of Flood. Then the chaingun started to roar, cutting through the monsters which – for as well as they were standing up to its wrath – might as well have been made out of tissue paper.

Finally, the Hornet leveled out about forty feet above the ground, set to fly right over the black-armored Spartan.

"Zeke, we got a free jump-seat!" Blaine yelled. "Get your sorry ass up here!"

The Spartan didn't answer, but threw down a portable Gravity Lift as the Hornet flew overhead. He sliced the first Flood to reach him as the ones that remained plowed each other over trying to get to him.

"Don't forget my proposition!" he shouted into an open channel, then jumped up into the lift. He flipped twice in the air-

And caught Blaine's jump-seat with one hand.

"Shit," he growled.

"Losing your touch," Blaine said lightly, grabbing the Spartan's free hand and swinging him over to the other seat.

"Am not," he answered defensively. "Just a little rusty after all our time off.

Blaine smiled, looking back at the destruction they'd caused. The ship was completely dismantled. Thousands upon thousands of Flood were dead for good, and Zeke still had two more bombs to detonate once they were out of the blast radius. All in all, it was a successful day in Los Angeles-

"You guys out?" The voice was Samuel's.

"Yeah, Sam," he said. "We're flying out now. Where'd you land?"

"Abandoned parking garage to the northeast; goes up about six stories. We got satellites coming overhead in three hours. We'll pick you up at the garage and then head east. Then we find somewhere secluded and hole up until the coast is clear."

"Got it, Sam."

"See you guys when you get here. We have some things to discuss, then it's off to New Mombasa."

* * *

**Author's Notes: And that's it. Like I said, go easy. I'm kinda finding my groove again, and I know I don't have it just yet. Still, working on it, and got a lot planned for the near future. Hope to hear from at least a few of you who didn't die of old age while I was away!**

**P.S. - I can't center my title anymore. The stupid FanFiction Document Manager won't let me. (  
I know it looks dumb...don't blame me. Blame the formatting (theirs - not mine).**


	14. Chapter 13: Long Time Coming

**Author's Notes: Evening all. This post is gonna be as fast as possible, since I have a ton of work left to do tonight. I'd apologize for the delay...but I can't. I've had at least one exam or midterm project (note the term "at least") due every week now for the last month, and I'm a little burnt out. Also, this chapter isn't really what I was wanting it to be, but it's been written for two weeks...I just haven't been able to make it perfect, and I decided that a decent chapter now is better than a might-be-better-than-decent chapter in another two or three weeks (when my schedule calms down). So...yeah. That's where we're at.**

**To anyone who loves fighting...well, wait a bit. This chapter is more for character and personality than Flood-killing...but don't worry - there's always something. ;)**

**Without further wait...**

**REVIEWS:**

**pottervspendragon: Trust me, I was really excited just to get to post again! I know, it's hard to believe given my long hiatus and unreliable timing...but I do love this story. :P**

**ching965: I appreciate the compliment. And perhaps I am hard on myself, but it works well to most ends, and it keeps my head from swelling large enough to get its own small set of planets orbiting it. Also, you are entirely right - Zeke is going to catch some major "flak" for keeping things out of his hands.  
Oh, and yes - if I can, I will be incorporating ideas from Reach, if not in this book (due to the setting and the resources available to them), certainly in the last book. Thanks very much!**

**JiraiyaTheToadSage: You just had to pick an obscenely-long, difficult name for me to remember, didn't you? ;) But seriously, welcome back Jackals. :)  
Hopefully you still like the writing as much as you say, and now you can get to see EXACTLY what gets said. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Rathnier Nithvolr: lol, glad you enjoyed it. It wasn't stellar, but I hope to get back up to my "par" level here soon. Maybe if I could get some consistency, it wouldn't be problem, lol. And yes - Blaine and Steph are *polar* opposites - part of what makes them so much fun. :P Thank you for your review!**

**killerman83ca:  
1. Yes.  
2. Blaine rocks.  
3. I thought so.  
4. YES  
5. You don't have to!  
Thanks very much for the review and the insights - my brother got Reach, so I've gotten to see it more than once. Always a plus. :)**

**Drake S. Hellion: lol, I appreciate your faith in me (since I haven't misplaced it just yet...). And I was hoping for Zeke's decision to be one that people could look at either way and say, "yeah...that just sucks all around." There wasn't meant to be any one good answer - otherwise Sam would've found it, as he always does. Also - I hope not to scare you again. :P  
Thanks!**

**The Elven-Spear: I am glad that the chapter was sufficient for you. Hopefully this one measures up equally well (or better?).  
...what's a huggle?**

**Vault Boy: Glad to see you're still around! And very glad you're still enjoying the story, even if the time to do long, drawn-out responses evades you (don't feel bad - it runs from me too). And I fully intend to get Reach...eventually. I'm just kinda poor right now. Writing for FanFiction doesn't pay well ;)**

**Eternity of Night: Well, take it from someone who has dumped more ideas than he's recorded: I understand. The "Backburner" as it's called, is often slanted, and things just seem to fall off entirely after a time. Then Lord only knows where they go...  
Glad SOMEONE liked the "Cruiser's on fire" line, lol. Or at least someone commented on it. And I can't blame you for liking Blaine...he's kind of a scary guy. Hard not to like, really...unless you're Covenant...or Flood...or ONI...pretty much if you're not on his "friends list".  
Thanks for the compliments! Enjoy!**

**russianbear0027 (aka: DennisK): LOL - I don't blame you a bit. And I do apologize that you had to suffer through the first twelve chapters again (lol). Imagine me having to re-read them to make sure nothing screws with what I wanted to write. ;)  
And I'm certainly honored you would come back and read, just for my little tidbits that get posted on the rare occassion I find time to type. Thanks much for the review, and I hope you like what's on the way!**

**xcavars: lol, thanks for understanding. Honestly, everyone's been pretty good about it (which is a plus). Still, I like to post regularly...I just don't have the time I used to. Oh, and like DennisK...I apologize you had to go suffer through the first dozen chapters again. ;) Imagine my pain when I had to do it too! And I wrote the darn things! Thanks for the review!  
BTW: I did look at your other review, and you'll be pleased to know that there's a scene not TOO far off that you should very much enjoy. :)**

**Ildina Dusklea: I don't blame you. I'd stab me too (though, if you're going to, can we put me out of my school-based misery? Hahaha). And you bring up a great point: it SHOULD have been better. I wanted it to be. I just couldn't make it work on paper like it did in my head. It's very, very rough trying to find my "groove" again when I don't get enough time to write consistently, and it shows. :(  
Trust me - I can't wait to get Vic involved in the story. But I'm not trying to paint Zeke in any light but the one he's always been under - hopefully this chapter clears up the misconceptions a bit.  
Thanks very much for your review and I hope you like it. :)**

**FireWolfFred: I am still alive! And yeah...I was kinda missing them too. But they're back!  
...as often as I can get them posted on here, you for the compliments too - it's nice to hear. :) And I'm glad you commented on the decisions, because that's a big part of this book: decisions, choices, consequences. Things are going to be nearly as, "go here. Kill that. Leave. Go there. Kill that. Stop this. Leave." as they were in the first book. There will be very rough decisions (moral and logical) placed on the team, and they'll have to adapt and harden to deal with some of them (like this one).  
Also, trust me - I KNOW how repetative it gets. I'm trying to keep it fresh until the new stuff really starts coming into play (which won't be long - I promise). Just bear with me and if you come up with anything cool in your head about what I could do with the Flood we have (for now), please don't hesitate to let me know. :)  
Thanks again!**

**Mhop12: I have no idea...probably the same thing that possessed me to try and cram a four-year program into two by switching tracts half-way through college (which, no matter what statistics tell you, is dumb...don't do it if you can help it). And I will TRY to never make you wait that long again. I will try my hardest. And, if I do...spam away! :) Thanks for reviewing for me!**

**And, with that - I am done posting for the night. CHAPTER TIME!**

* * *

**Chapter 13:**

– **Long Time Coming –**

**0200 Hours - July 19, 2553**

**Abandoned Hotel - Orovada, Nevada**

Blaine exhaled loudly, waiting on Samuel to begin. The Spartans had traveled east for almost two hours before being forced by time to settle on a place to stop and wait for the satellites to pass. In the end, they'd decided on a small town in the remains of northern Nevada, where an abandoned hangar provided cover for the Phantom and an almost completely-intact hotel sufficed as shelter for Zulu Company while Miedema waited inside the dropship.

The place was in such good shape, in fact, that there was power throughout the entire building. The lights worked. The ventilation was operating (though Samuel remained nervous about it). Even the miscellaneous electronics – small computers, electronic key-cards for the rooms, and announcement systems – were all intact and working at full capacity.

Now the entire team was seated in the lobby of the building, except for Samuel, who stood at the front desk, and Ezekiel, who was standing against the far wall with his arms crossed at his chest. Samuel and Landon were the only ones who had elected to keep their helmets on, but Blaine could tell by his posture and body language alone that the brown-armored Spartan was both anxious and angry.

Though, about what, he wasn't sure.

"There's no easy way to tell you all this." The leading Spartan began. "The goals in Los Angeles that we had set for us were all realized. The mission was a success." His tone didn't match his words – he sounded like he was on the edge of collapse.

"So why are you so…off?" Stephanie asked, her voice laced with genuine concern.

Samuel breathed hard before answering. "While inside the ship, Zeke discovered that Gravemind had taken hostages of sorts. There were people inside, likely being used as labor for the Flood."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. There had been people?

Stephanie started to speak, but Samuel interrupted her. "I wasn't aware of the situation before I received the message from Demon that informed me of their presence there. By that time, Blaine and Stephanie had detonated the bombs, Landon had done his job, and Ezekiel was still on the Cruiser-"

"How many?" Stephanie asked, obviously working to keep her composure. "How many were there?"

Samuel exhaled hard again. "We believe there were around three hundred people."

Instantly, she was on her feet and yelling. "And you didn't tell us? Why wouldn't you even ask our opinions? Those were people, Sam! Human Beings! And they're dead because of us!" She was shaking her head back and forth as if trying to remove the memory from her mind. "We killed them."

"There wasn't time." Samuel answered sadly, but calmly. He'd rehearsed this already, known what was coming. "I was put in a position to make a choice quickly, and I did."

"You didn't tell us!" She maintained. "I understand if you couldn't have taken our advice, but you didn't even tell us! And why was that the only choice? We could have helped them. Why didn't we wait to blow the ship-"

"Because I wouldn't wait," Zeke snapped, silencing her. "Samuel wasn't given a choice. I was going to blow up the ship no matter what order he gave, and I told him so."

"Zeke, shut up." Samuel countered, and the smaller Spartan seemed to recoil slightly. "I don't need you lying to defend me." He paused, turning back to Stephanie. "We had no way to transport them, even if by a miracle we could save them. We had nowhere to take them-"

"We could have taken them back-" She started, and Blaine could tell instantly that she didn't mean it, but couldn't accept in her mind that their only option had been to take life rather than save it.

"Steph," Samuel said, shaking his head. "There's no way. You know that."

At this point, Blaine watched tears begin to well up in her eyes, and he felt his own eyes widen at the sight. He had seen her upset before, distraught at lost lives that they had tried to save, but this…

This was different. They had taken life, and Stephanie knew it.

"I didn't sign for this." She said sadly, and then she stood up and walked to the stairwell on one side, disappearing from sight.

After several moments of silence, Landon finally spoke. "We had no choice, right?" He didn't seem to be asking anyone in particular.

"The ship was space-worthy." Zeke answered matter-of-factly. "Those people were either going to be infected or kept on as slaves for the Flood. And you didn't see them; they were beaten, bruised…dying." He paused. "We had no choice."

Blaine nodded, turning to Samuel. "You made the right call."

Sam scoffed – an unusual expression for him. "Yeah, I know."

"You could have told us." Landon said. "I know you had a decision to make, but you owed us that."

"I didn't tell you because I knew there would be disagreement, and putting your minds on anything other than the mission very easily could've gotten everyone killed." Samuel answered. "Everyone is on a need-to-know basis, and at the time, you didn't need to know."

"Then why tell us now?"

Blaine wondered the same thing. It really served no purpose, and Samuel would have likely done better for himself to never let them know, especially Stephanie.

"I made the choice to destroy the Cruiser because I believed it was the right thing to do." He paused. "I feel the same way about letting all of you know what has gone on and what we have to do to win this. I didn't want to tell you…trust me, I didn't. But you have a right to know."

Landon laughed bitterly. "And if we didn't wanna know?"

Samuel took off his helmet, looking around the room, first at Blaine, then at Landon. "Then I'm very sorry."

Blaine closed his eyes, letting it sink in. He had never seen these people, had no idea they existed. Somehow, knowing that they had didn't change much. They were still a faceless group, no more or less individual than the Flood he was so accustomed to slaughtering. It wasn't that he didn't pity them, didn't regret that they had to die…it was that he knew, in his heart and his mind that it had to happen.

He had come to grips with reality while looking at the smoking, burning ruins of the island of Mahé. The truth, no matter how horrible it was, was that the Spartans would have to burn the world to ash in order to stop the Flood. And, with that, people would die – hundreds, maybe thousands – depending on how many were left.

It was a reality that Stephanie couldn't face yet, and one that would haunt Samuel for the rest of his days even though he had. Blaine knew those two facts for certain.

For him and Ezekiel, it was just part of the job: people died. They'd both push it to the back and go on with life. Landon would be able to get by; he'd rationalize it as "following orders" and "stopping the Flood". But that wouldn't be enough for Sam or Steph. No, they'd hold themselves personally accountable for every injury, every tragic death.

"Zeke, I need to speak with you, now." Samuel didn't wait for an answer. He put his helmet back on and walked slowly out of the room.

And, without a word, the black-armored soldier followed in his footsteps, leaving Blaine and Landon to themselves.

* * *

Ezekiel braced himself for the yelling that he knew was coming before he even walked through the open door to Room 104. He'd crossed a line, and he knew it, but it wasn't for his own ends, like it usually was. He had a genuine reason this time-

"Close the damn door." Samuel snapped as he walked in. Zeke was taken aback by the bitterness in the statement, right from the start. Samuel never swore. It just didn't happen. He suppressed any reaction to the statement as he shut the door and looked up to see the Spartan standing without his helmet. His right arm was braced against the wall and he was glaring down at Ezekiel, breathing through his teeth.

Sam was pissed.

Ezekiel raised his hands defensively. "Before you say anything-"

"What is wrong with you?" He shouted, removing his arm from the wall. "You don't think I'd wanna know that we were about to kill three-hundred freaking people?"

"I didn't want you to have to deal with it." Zeke answered. "You-"

"Why, Zeke?" He growled. "You worried I wouldn't have the guts to make the call? You think that, if you don't step up and do my job for me, that it won't get done?"

"That wasn't why-"

"Do you want my job?" Samuel asked suddenly, quieter but still clearly infuriated, and completely serious.

Ezekiel cocked an eyebrow, confused. "What?"

"My job," Samuel clarified. "Do you want it? Do you think you can do it better? Because you clearly know something that I don't-"

"I don't want your damn job."

"Then stop acting like it!" Samuel was clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, breathing through his teeth again. He was beyond angry; he was seething. "I'm sick of it! When have I ever given you a reason to doubt me, so much that you would think you have to do my job for me?"

"That wasn't why, Sam."

The larger Spartan ignored him. "Why can't you just trust me to do what I have to do, like I trust you to do?"

Zeke took a deep breath, slowing his heart-rate and his breathing before he spoke. "I did trust you, Sam." He said. "I trusted you to make the right decision – knew you would, in fact. That's why I wasn't going to tell you."

Samuel seemed to calm slightly, having gotten his thoughts off his chest, but was still extremely tense and angry – Ezekiel could see it in his face. "It wasn't your call to make. Don't act like you didn't realize that."

"I know," Zeke admitted. "But I knew that, when faced with the decision, you would know that we had no choice; the ship had to be destroyed. I thought it would be better if you and others didn't have to live with it on your consciences."

Sam shook his head. "I don't need you 'protecting' me, or whatever it is you think you're doing when you go around me, Zeke. I also don't need you pulling this loner bull and acting surprised when I'm not thankful. Most importantly, I don't need you questioning my every order-"

"I made the call because I knew your order!" Zeke snapped back. "I didn't want you to have to live with the decision to end their lives-"

"Why not?" Sam asked bitterly. "Why should you be the one to live with it? Are you suddenly more capable of dealing with guilt than the rest of us, 'cause I really don't see it. I've seen the way you handle self-blame, and I gotta tell you – I'm not impressed."

"Because there's already blood on my hands!" Ezekiel found himself yelling now, even though he'd vowed to keep his temper in check. It was understandable for Samuel to be angry, and he had no right to question the leading Spartan's ridicule.

But he was anyway.

"Blood on your hands," Samuel repeated, "how many times have I heard that now?"

"I'm damned, Samuel." He said. "Like it or not, I'm a damned man with blood on his hands and stains on his soul. There's no fixing that, Sam."

Samuel rolled his eyes. "You're not 'damned', Zeke. You're just a little lost."

"You say 'potato', I say 'damned'." He shrugged. "My point is this: those three-hundred people are nothing to me. Do I feel horrible that I caused their deaths? Of course I do; it's eaten at me since the moment I snapped my fingers. But do I feel any worse than I have for months? No! I couldn't tell the difference if I tried."

"That doesn't excuse going around me."

"I wasn't trying to circumvent you, Sam." He said bluntly. "I was executing the same order I trusted you to make, but I was trying to spare you the guilt that I know you're feeling right now. I was trying to avoid the fallout that you're gonna see and may have already seen a little bit with Stephanie. If I was the only one who knew, no one would ever be the wiser, because I don't hurt or hate or regret any more or less than I did this time yesterday."

"I know this might be hard for you to understand, but you are not the only one of us strong enough to deal with the consequences of our actions." Samuel's voice had lowered and leveled out in a tone that more resembled frustration than actual anger. "We're soldiers, Spartans. We will all live and die with our own sins, and we'll accept the consequences when they arrive."

Ezekiel rolled his eyes. "That's asinine-"

"I don't care!" Samuel silenced him in a second. "No matter how you justify it to yourself, I know you, and I know that this is just another way of you asserting your superiority in that "you can handle it" and the rest of us can't. And I'm sick and tired of it."

Now Zeke was pissed. "You have no idea what my motives are, and I suggest you stop putting your beliefs on my actions. I was attempting to do you a favor, just like I did in the lobby, and you threw it in my face."

At this, Sam seemed confused, but his apparent rage didn't falter. "What?" he snapped.

"The lobby," Zeke repeated, "you know, when I tried to take the fall for the three hundred people we killed?" He paused. "You're welcome, by the way."

He cocked his head back, as if seeing the smaller Spartan in the room for the first time. "You're serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious! What do you think? That I'm talking to hear my head rattle?"

Samuel shook his head. "You were actually trying to help this time?" Even though he sounded somewhat convinced, Ezekiel could still hear the skepticism in his voice.

"For God's sake, Sam, yes, I was! That was my point! What the Hell have I been saying this whole time-"

Sam dismissed the speech with a wave of his hand as his facial expression seemed to soften ever-so slightly. Ezekiel wasn't sure if the other Spartan had calmed down, or if he was just so stunned in disbelief that the rage couldn't be seen. "If you're yanking my chain to get out of a fight-"

"When have I ever given a damn about avoiding a confrontation?"

Samuel scoffed. "I thought for a long time that it'd be nice of you to try and help out for a change." He rolled his eyes. "My mistake."

The smaller Spartan scowled, suddenly more uncomfortable and angry than he had been when he had first walked into the room. He silently wished that the giant Spartan would go back to shouting. The short, bitter jabs were unfamiliar and – worse – disconcerting.

"While I am sorry for assuming the worst," the Spartan was talking slowly, calmly, as if he had to force the sentence out, "it doesn't change anything." His voice hardened again. "You were out of line. You took it upon yourself to do handle a situation that wasn't yours to deal with, circumventing me and undermining the authority that I still have."

"I was trying to-"

Samuel stopped him, though his voice had leveled out considerably. "I know. I get it. I understand what you were trying to do, but you need to understand me." Zeke could tell by the new tone that Sam had snapped in the beginning and for some reason had come to regret it – now he was working not to lose his composure again.

He could also tell that the larger soldier's patience was already wavering.

"You disrespected me, which I can live with. What I can't live with is you going around me, behind my back. This time, it was an issue of morality. Next time, it could get somebody killed, and I won't have it."

"I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize anyone's life, Sam." Zeke protested. "I think I deserve enough credit to vanquish that fear."

"That's part of the problem." Samuel answered.

"What is?"

"You have to place your faith in the rest of this team, and in me too. You used to do it, but then Vic left and…" Samuel's words drifted off until he shook his head a moment later, bringing the conversation back. "You got your confidence back in yourself – or at least some of it – but you still can't bring yourself to serve with the team, under me. And, I'm sorry to say it, but if you can't learn to do that again, then you're not a part of this team."

Zeke shook his head. "Meaning what?"

"Ezekiel, I don't wanna say this, but you're not giving me a choice." He paused. "I'm done excusing it, all this loner crap. It stops here. You gave me your word that you'd follow my orders. Now you're gonna make good on it, or you're gone."

"Gone?"

"You heard me. You're forcing my hand. I'm done playing this back-and-forth game. This is it. It's the last time I'm going to say it, and it's the last time I'm going to tolerate all this "one-man-army" crap." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to have this conversation again. If I have to…I'm taking you back to Mahé, and I am dropping you off. Are we clear?"

Ezekiel's eyes widened, trying to gauge just how serious his leader was. What he realized was that the brown-armored soldier was completely serious, in every sense of the word. Zeke had pushed every button there was to be pressed, and the strain on the team had been enough to drive Samuel to swear and to give the smaller soldier an ultimatum that would almost certainly result in his death.

He'd known from the moment he saw those people that Samuel had to be notified, without a doubt in his mind. He'd known it was wrong not to pass the information up the chain for the leader to decide on. But he'd pushed it all aside in order to go on with his mission.

Was there merit to what Samuel said? Had he really just put himself above the team, above Sam? Was there really a measure of superiority to his actions? Why was he the "only one" who could deal with the weight on his conscience? Why should he be the only one?

And in deciding to act as he had, he had put Samuel in a position to take life or give Ezekiel's away to the Flood. He had circumvented his authority, made him play the fool once again, giving orders that were redundant, at best, to a soldier who, for all he knew, didn't give a damn what he thought.

In trying to help, he had gone too far.

"Are we clear?" He repeated.

Ezekiel realized for the first time exactly how much pressure he'd put on Samuel, how much stress he'd put on everyone around. He had never really been a "team player", but it was excusable to a point, and the rest of Zulu Company cut him more slack than anyone could have been expected to. And he had still taken it too far. He had pushed until Sam – calm, patient, "everyone first but me" Sam – had no choice but to push back.

"Yes sir." He answered, and left the room.

* * *

Landon tried to be as quiet as possible while rummaging through the cabinets in and around the lobby's storage closet. He was starving, but had yet to find anything remotely edible other than a tiny bag of potato chips, hardly the meal of a Spartan.

"What the Hell are you looking for?" Blaine snapped.

"Food!" Landon answered, opening another cabinet door. When he saw nothing but empty shelves, he moved to the next one in line, grabbing a tiny lock that held the twin doors in place and snapping it easily before opening them-

He stopped cold.

"Find something?"

"You could say that," he answered, staring into the cupboard. What he saw unfortunately wasn't food, but rather a dozen shelves all stocked to the brim with various drink mixes and bottles – and all of them were alcoholic. "Damn it," he growled.

"Found the alcohol, I see." Zeke was suddenly standing behind him, and Landon jumped away, instantly embarrassed, both that the other Spartan could scare him, and that he could sneak up on him in the first place.

"Every time, Zeke?" he asked. "Do you have to do that every freakin' time?"

The other Spartan only shrugged, reaching into the cabinet and grabbing a pair of dark bottles before turning around and tossing one of them loosely to Blaine.

"Not much of a last meal," the cybernetic Spartan said casually, catching the bottle and glancing at the label.

"You're not serious?" Landon asked. "We're on duty! I mean, I'd normally be all for a little R&R, but did you not see Samuel? In case you've forgotten, he's kinda pissed!"

He heard the top of Blaine's bottle pop off. "You make it sound like we're doing this for fun. Personally, I'm just thirsty."

"And I'm tired, but you don't see me lying down for a nap." Samuel was suddenly standing in the doorway.

"Shit, Sam," Blaine said, "we're just camping out for the next eight hours anyway. Then it's several more hours to Mombasa. Who gives a damn?" He took a swig of the dark liquid in the bottle.

Samuel walked over to the smaller Spartan and snatched the alcohol from his hand. "I do. Don't you think the risk is great enough that we should all be in top shape, not drunk and disorderly?" He glanced at Ezekiel, who placed his own bottle on a nearby counter, raising his hands defensively.

"Fine," Blaine said, waving him off. "No rest for the weary." He paused. "You seen anything else to drink around here?"

Samuel shrugged. "Gael thinks there might be food and water in the basement, in a refrigerator or a freezer. If it wasn't opened when the staff cleared out, it'd mostly all still be good."

"Works for me." Blaine stood up slowly. "Comin', smartass?" he gave a quick glance at Ezekiel, who was still standing next to Landon at the cabinet.

The other Spartan shrugged. "Sure," he said, and turned to leave.

"Before you go," Samuel said, stopping them. "I'm looking for Steph."

"Second floor," Zeke answered without missing a beat. "Room 213."

Samuel nodded. "Stay sharp," he said, and left the room.

When Landon saw Blaine exit the room as well, he realized that he had to choose between sitting in the lobby, alone and hungry, or following two Spartans who would likely mock him the entire way into the basement…

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" He yelled, rushing from the room.

* * *

Samuel tried to think of how to approach the conversation he was about to have, but he knew in his head that there was no "good" way to go about it. Stephanie felt angry, betrayed, and was more than a little distraught – both at the sheer loss of life and also at the fact that she had had some part in it.

So when he reached the door on the second floor that read "213", cracked ever so slightly open, he hesitated at making his presence known. Stephanie had always trusted him without question, and even though he knew that he'd made the right choice in Los Angeles, Samuel couldn't help but feel like he had betrayed the trust she'd put in him.

Still, it had to happen. The Flood had to be stopped. People would suffer along the way – civilians and Spartans alike – but it was unavoidable.

And so was his talk with Stephanie.

Reluctantly, Samuel knocked loudly on the door.

"It's open." Her voice was neutral – that was a good sign.

Samuel stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. "Can we talk?"

"You're the boss. We do whatever you say." She answered coldly. The leading Spartan sighed.

"Don't be like that, Steph," he said. "This wasn't what I wanted either."

She seemed to snap, all at once. "I don't care what you wanted, Sam." She growled. "You made a choice to end the lives of three-hundred living, breathing, feeling human beings, and you did it without so much as a word of counsel, without even taking the time to think it over before you had Zeke snap his fingers."

"What was I supposed to do?" He asked, trying to keep his voice level. Dealing with Stephanie was not the same as dealing with Blaine or Ezekiel – yelling wouldn't solve his problems. "We couldn't save them. We had no way to do so."

"That's not the point." She maintained. "The point is that you didn't care one bit what the rest of us thought, and you just took it upon yourself to get the blood of three-hundred people on our hands!"

"I couldn't tell you before the mission was over because I knew you'd react this way!" Sam was talking louder now, but it was only anxiety that showed, not anger or frustration. "I couldn't have you questioning me when Zeke's life was on the line, when the whole mission could still fail."

"Of course," she said bitterly, "the mission. It's all about this great mission to stop the Flood, something that the UNSC couldn't do even with the help of the Sangheili, something that the Master Chief only thought he accomplished." She scoffed loudly. "Hell, something even the Forerunner had to burn the entire galaxy to do, and you think we're just going to take them on with a handful of Spartans?"

"We can," Samuel answered confidently. "We're a third of the way there now."

"The easy part," she said. "We struck out of nowhere, on an area that he wasn't ready to defend from us. And sure, Mombasa will probably play out similarly, but what about Sydney? How are we supposed to beat the Flood at their home?" She paused. "And what about Vic? We should be going to the Citadel to find her and bolster our numbers-"

"We go to the Citadel as soon as we plant the bomb in New Mombasa and stop back at the Seychelles to check on Jason. As soon as we're done there, we'll go, and we will get her back."

Still, Stephanie seemed unconvinced. "I trusted you." She said sadly. "I put every ounce of faith in you I could spare, and you went and traded lives that weren't ours to give away. How am I supposed to get beyond that?"

At this, Samuel realized that he wasn't getting anywhere. She was still angry, still upset, and no amount of talking was going to solve anything until she calmed down and realized that the decision he had made was the only real option for any of them.

"You're going to have to." He said. "We still have a job to do, and I need you for this. I can't do it without you."

"I'm still under your orders," she answered. "I'm just not as fond of it as I used to be."

"Well, I hope you can get over that. In the meantime, please try to understand: you cannot imagine the pain and stress that went into making that choice. You can't fathom the guilt that I'm living with right now. As angry as you are, you can still take solace in the knowledge that you didn't know what you were doing, that you were mislead, if you choose to believe that. But me? I gave the order. I told Zeke to destroy the Covenant Cruiser, and in doing so I told him to kill those people."

"Sam-"

"Whatever you think you're feeling…whatever 'blood' you think is on your hands…it is nothing compared to what is on my head right now. It's almost enough to make me wish that Gael had never told me in the first place." He paused, taking a deep breath and forcing the emotions to the back of his mind. "But that's my place. It's not fair for me to let Zeke take the responsibility for it all, and so I had to be told. I had to give that order, because it's my job and my place…and my duty to accept the consequences."

Stephanie's features seemed to soften the slightest bit upon hearing the last of Samuel's words, but it didn't matter – not at that moment. All he could think about were those three-hundred innocent people, people that he might as well have executed himself…

It wasn't normal for him to spill. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't right. He was supposed to be strong, the fearless leader that never wavered and never had second-thoughts. He didn't have the luxury of saying that hindsight was twenty-twenty. It all had to be right, the first time, and without fail. If not, it was on him.

And even if it was, the consequences still rested with him.

That was what threw him off the most about Stephanie's reaction. She was the one that it was easiest to speak with – and why not? She had more faith in him than all the others combined-

Or, at least, she had at one time.

Now Samuel was pushing the limits of her belief in him and in his cause. And that wasn't even the worst part – the worst of it was that, for all his speech about it being "the right move", Samuel still wasn't sure. He had asked God with what few minutes he had to think it over. He had begged for an answer, for a sign or even just a hint as to what had to be done. It was too much for one man to contemplate, and he couldn't bring it to the others – they had to keep their minds focused on the job at hand, or they could have all been killed.

And God hadn't answered him. Or maybe He had. Samuel wasn't sure. In those ninety seconds between speaking with Zeke and making the call, he had panicked for the first time since he'd become a part of Zulu Company. There had been a decision to make, and he wasn't ready for it. Consequently, he knew that his mind wasn't clear – it was frantic. God could have lit up a neon sign in front of his eyes, and he wouldn't have noticed. How was one man supposed to make a decision to save or destroy the lives of three-hundred people? How could it be justified in his mind or anyone else's?

"Sam, I'm sorry." Stephanie said all of a sudden. Her voice yanked him from his thoughts in an instant. "I just have a lot to think about. I know it wasn't easy for you either, but it was different for me. I signed up to save lives, not to take them." She breathed heavily, pushing back tears. "I don't know if I'm willing to give up my compassion to stop them. Because that's what it'll come down to: we'll have to give up our humanity and fight like them – sacrificing whoever we have to in order to win, parting with lives by the hundreds or even thousands if it means a key victory. I don't know if I can do it."

Samuel nodded, trying to keep his voice and his expressions level and calm, even though a storm of emotions was raging just beneath the surface. "Good," he managed, "because I don't know if I can either."

* * *

The basement was huge, and it bordered on an absolute maze in Blaine's eyes. They'd entered from an elevator near the lobby, but Ezekiel's AI – much like Gael – had no schematics for the hotel, and they'd since been wandering around aimlessly through corridors that were almost downright scary in appearance. To put it plainly, the basement resembled a dungeon more than it did a storage space for an extravagant business.

"This place is ridiculous." Landon complained. "What kind of hotel has a basement this size? It wouldn't be out of place in the Natural History Museum."

"Like you've ever been to a museum," Blaine laughed.

"For your information-"

"Save it." Zeke snapped from the front.

Landon seemed unaffected by the harshness of the order. "Fine," he said bitterly. "On another note: where's the damn food? We might as well have looked for the kitchen upstairs."

"We can always turn around." Blaine suggested, more bored with their current expedition than anything else. "What do you think, Zeke?"

For some reason, the black-armored Spartan seemed more driven than Blaine could account for. He insisted on leading the way, and he stopped periodically anywhere there was a split path, cocking his head back and waiting before moving forward with a level of confidence that was – if nothing else – very strange.

"We have to keep looking." He answered.

"Why?" Landon asked. The other Spartan stopped.

"Because we're not alone down here," he answered coldly.

Blaine understood instantly. "That's what you've been doing: following a scent."

He nodded.

"Pure or Combat Forms?" Landon asked, reaching for his Shotgun.

"Neither," the other Spartan answered, shaking his head. "Humans. People."

Blaine was confused. If there were people here, they had to know that the Spartans were inside the hotel. Why would they hide?

"And I'm not sure if you guys noticed, but almost every town and village we passed since Los Angeles had lights of some kind coming from it."

Blaine's eyes widened, thinking about it. He was right. "They weren't on when we were on our way there, though…"

Zeke nodded. "Exactly," he said. "There's been no power anywhere for months. Anyone else find it odd and a little discomforting that, the moment we make trouble for that parasitic bastard, lights come on all over the country?"

"What does it mean?" Landon asked.

"Good question. In the meantime, I say we find the people down here and see if they know anything."

"You think there's a main security room or something down here? Somewhere they would hide and go into lockdown?"

"There were cameras in the lobby." Zeke answered. "I watched one in the corner move to face Sam shortly after he started talking."

Landon seemed appalled. "Why didn't you say something to him?"

Zeke laughed bitterly. "Do you even listen when you talk? In case you hadn't noticed, our fearless leader was a little angry with me up there. You think I could have avoided a fist-fight if I tried to interrupt his monologue?"

"I suppose not." Landon admitted. "Well, the camera…maybe motion-tracking?"

Blaine shook his head. "Would have caught him when he walked up to the desk, not after he started talking."

"Then audio? Maybe it picked up on the sound and honed in on that?"

"You're way too hopeful." Zeke answered. "And, all that aside, I smell human blood down here."

"They're bleeding?"

He shook his head. "All it takes is a cut, a scrape, a bloody lip. Whatever it is, it isn't much, but it's down here, and it's getting stronger."

"Then let's see what we can find." Blaine said. Zeke nodded and walked further down the dimly-lit corridor, leading the way and only stopping when the path diverged. They walked in silence, filled with a combination of anxiety and curiosity, silently relieved to find something other than the Flood for a change.

Ten minutes later, the three Spartans were standing outside of a steel door with a small security terminal mounted on the wall beside it and a camera looking down at them. The entire area was drenched in a pale red glow that reminded Blaine of a Covenant ship.

"Open the door." Zeke said, looking up at the camera.

No response came. The door stayed shut.

"We could break it down." Blaine said.

"Or Demon could get us in," Ezekiel answered, pulling the neuro-chip from his helmet and sliding it into a slot on the side of the terminal.

"You and your "stealth" approaches." Blaine sighed, shaking his head. "Do you even remember how to have fun?"

Zeke ignored him, and a moment later, the red light that bathed the doorway changed color to green. The steel frame gave way, allowing the door to slide over, into the wall. Ezekiel grabbed the chip and slid it back into his helmet as the way was opened.

"Well, hello." Landon said.

There were seven of them, three men and four women. All of them but the youngest girl appeared to be in their late twenties and all seven looked healthy, especially given the circumstances. The youngest female looked to be either eighteen or nineteen – Blaine wasn't sure.

"Just go away!" One of the men shouted, and the entire group huddled against the far wall.

"Leave us alone!" This time is was one of the women who spoke up.

"What?" Landon asked. "Why?"

Blaine was confused. They'd seen hostile reactions to Spartans before, but never frightened ones. Those who ever appeared scared of them were that way because they were unsure if the Spartans were Flood-controlled or not…but these people knew better. And yet, they still cringed away from the three members of Zulu Company like the plague.

"You'll get us all killed!" The man shouted. "Just leave! Now!"

Blaine looked around the room, taking it all in. It was a small, steel square, lined with monitors that gave a view into various rooms inside the hotel. In addition, there was a monitor in the corner that did not appear to be connected to the security systems and a stockpile of food, water, and firearms in the opposite corner.

"You're well-stocked." The white-armored Spartan commented. He was about to speak again when he noticed that one of the other men was holding what appeared to be a remote control in his hands.

Landon must have noticed too, because he spoke up quickly. "What were you watching?" He asked. "Hasn't been much on since the Flood took over." There was a lighthearted tone to his voice, apparently trying to comfort the seven frightened people-

It didn't work.

"Just leave, damn it!" The man with the remote yelled. "Please! Go away!"

"Why?" Landon asked. "We're friends-"

"We'll all be killed!" The man was still shouting. "They'll know!"

Now Blaine was confused, but something in his gut told him he didn't like where the conversation was headed. "Who?"

No one answered. The entire group just seemed to shrink tighter, clutching even more to the wall behind them. They looked up at the Spartans, clearly frightened, but of something other than the super-soldiers before them.

"Let us help you." Landon said. "Tell us what's going on."

"Just leave us alone!"

Blaine glanced over at the blue-armored Spartan, who seemed discouraged but not dissuaded from trying again. "Come on," he said. "It doesn't have to-"

"Alright," Zeke growled angrily, stepping forward and activating one of his Energy Swords as he shoved past Landon. "I'm done playing this stupid little game. I'm going to ask you one time: what aren't you telling us?"

"You're going to get us killed!"

"No," Zeke corrected, "you're going to get yourselves killed if you screw with us any longer."

"Zeke," Landon said, "you can't just-"

"I'm bluffing," he growled, his voice only audible through the com-link, "now shut up."

"Oh…right."

The black-armored Spartan exhaled loudly, then activated his second blade. "Don't make me ask you twice!"

No one answered. Instead, the man with the remote pointed it at the monitor and turned it on. Blaine noticed that several in the group shot him dirty looks, and one of the other men even punched him in the shoulder to get his attention before mouthing something to him.

But the man ignored it and, a moment later, the screen flickered to life, revealing the upper half of a raggedy looking young woman, looking directly at the camera. Blaine could see fear and pain in her eyes, and there was dried blood in her hair and on her face.

And, more disturbingly, there was a pair of Tank Forms standing directly behind her, holding completely still except for their breathing.

"I have a message for those who have survived." She said, tears in her eyes. "As you know, we have been given our power back. This is a gesture of good faith from the Flood, from the Gravemind."

She glanced backward and one of the Tank Forms growled lowly.

"Five soldiers – UNSC Spartans – are moving from place to place, spreading destruction and pain in their wake. They will have to stop and hide out soon. When they do, if you see them or discover any information about them or their destination, you are to send a distress call. You need not say anything – the call itself will suffice…"

"Finish…it…" The voice was deep, suffocating. Blaine reasoned that it had to be coming from the Pure Forms.

Gravemind.

"From this point on, you are all safe from the Flood. You may leave your homes and carry on your lives as you would, provided that you do not inhibit their plans. Anyone who helps to find these Spartans will be rewarded with a small ship capable of escaping the Earth's orbit and getting into UNSC-controlled space to be picked up." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Anyone caught helping these demons…will be tortured in ways that you cannot imagine. And they and their loved ones will be erased from existence."

The monitor went black as the man pressed the button again.

"Oh shit." Blaine said, breaking the several-second silence that ensued.

"You can say that again." Landon muttered.

"Oh shit." He repeated.

Zeke didn't seem to waver. He just stood there in silence.

Blaine looked at the group. "You called them." It was more of a statement than a question.

The people all looked sheepish, but finally the woman that had shouted first nodded her head silently. "We had no choice." She said, clearly ashamed.

"Uh-huh," Blaine growled. "Clearly."

"They'll be here soon." Landon said. He glanced at the civilians. "When did you contact them?"

After a moment's pause and a hard swallow, the same woman answered, "about four minutes after you stepped in the door."

Blaine and Zeke exchanged glances. The Flood would be on them any minute, if they weren't already here and-

Every light in the room and the entire corridor suddenly died, plunging them into darkness. The seven people in the corner began to yell.

"Shut up, all of you!" Zeke shouted, activating every plasma generator on his armor and bathing the room in blue-white light. "You very well might have done what thousands of blood-thirsty aliens failed to do: doomed us all. Congratulations."

"We have to tell Sam." Landon said.

"That's what I'm doing." Zeke answered. He was silent for a moment, then slammed his fist into the nearest wall. "His damn helmet's off his giant head! How the Hell am I supposed to get in contact with our great and mighty leader when he takes off his freakin' helm?"

"Same way he gets a hold of you," Landon answered.

"Yeah," the black-armored Spartan said. "Time to go pay him a visit in person."

"Agreed," Blaine answered. "Let's get the Hell outta here. The Flood will be on us any minute."

They turned to leave, but were stopped by the sound of someone crying. A moment later, one of the men spoke up.

"You can't leave us here." He said. "We've helped you! They'll kill all of us."

"I don't think you've helped us in the least." Blaine said frankly.

"We showed you the broadcast! We talked to you! You've seen these monsters; you honestly think they'll be lenient with us?" The man's tone made it evident that he already knew the answer without a single doubt in his mind.

"Aw, but you were so trusting of them an hour ago." Blaine answered.

"You have to help us." Another man said. "Please."

"Sorry," Zeke growled, "you're on your own."

"Zeke," Landon said, "we can't leave them here."

Blaine rolled his eyes. He knew that Landon was right, but it didn't make it any easier. "Damn it," he said. "Landon's right. We don't have a choice."

Ezekiel groaned in frustration. "Fine," he snarled. "But one false move, and I'm leaving them here to rot."

"Sounds fair to me," Blaine answered.

"Come on," Landon yelled, looking back at them. "You gotta keep up."

The group of civilians grabbed several flashlights from their stockpile, armed themselves and, without another word, they took off down the darkened corridors behind Blaine and Landon, following Ezekiel's light back down the halls. This time, they knew which way they were going and moved much faster, arriving in minutes at the elevator-

"Shit!"

"I forgot," Landon said. "No power-"

"No damned elevator!" Blaine finished. The doors were sealed shut.

"You guys look around for the stairs." Zeke said. "I'll go find Sam."

Blaine nodded, knowing what he was about to do. "Good luck," he said.

Ezekiel nodded, taking his swords and cutting straight through the low-grade steel that made up the elevator doors. When he'd cut a sufficient hole, he kicked it in and stepped into the elevator that had been waiting there.

"Wall-jumping again?" Landon asked. "Didn't that idea work really poorly for you last time?"

"Last time," Zeke answered bitterly as he cut through the roof of the metal box, "I was seriously injured and trying to carry the unconscious form of a two-ton Spartan on my back while doing so."

"Fair," Landon conceded.

"Come on," Blaine said. "We gotta go." He looked once more to Zeke before the Spartan inevitably vanished. "Tell Sam we'll meet him outside. Stay sharp."

"You too."

With that, he vanished into the shaft.

Blaine switched his visor to night-vision and glanced at the group behind them. "Stay behind us. Follow our footsteps. We'll be out shortly."

* * *

Ezekiel reached the second floor in no time and with an ease that seemed positively wrong after how difficult his last attempt at bouncing his way up an elevator shaft had been. Now though, with no injuries, no added weight, and the bonus of even a little practice in more intense gravity, it was an absolute cakewalk. He reached the closed doors to the second floor and cut a large hole in them before tearing through and racing to the room that Stephanie had been staying in.

On the way, Demon spoke for the first time since before they'd found the civilians. "This, I have to admit, I didn't see coming."

"No kidding," Zeke answered. The implications had hit him the moment he'd watched the broadcast, but he'd forced them out until now. "He knows everything. I'm sure if he's cut the power, then he already got the footage from the cameras. He heard us all talking."

"That's the one piece of good news." Demon said. "I went back and looked over Samuel's little meeting the lobby. Lucky for you, he never once mentioned the NOVA warheads or our next destination."

Zeke stopped cold in the middle of the hall. "Seriously?" he asked, dumbfounded. He tried to think back to the meeting, but could only remember bits and pieces. The only recent talk he could remember with any clarity was their private chat that had happened after.

"Lucky break," the AI answered.

Ezekiel grinned, laughing quietly. "Wow," he said, taking off again and forcing the thoughts away. It was good news, but it wasn't of any use to him now. He passed room after room, rounded a corner and saw the number "221" engraved on a door to his left. Seconds later, he found "213", closed and locked.

The finished wooden door, even with a reinforced frame, gave way in an instant-

"Sam?" he asked.

The room was empty. The large windows to the right were shattered. The balcony was covered in the remains of Flood Pure Forms. The wall to the next wall had been completely torn down.

"Sam!" He shouted, opening a communications channel. "Stephanie!"

"Zeke!" The voice was Samuel's. "Thank God! Where have you guys been?"

"The basement," he answered, "trying to call you! You're gonna love this: Gravemind has decided to broadcast us-"

"As demons," Samuel finished. "Yeah, Gael picked up the frequency and had us turn on the monitor. I just wanna know how he found us here."

"There were people downstairs." Zeke answered. "They sent out a distress call."

"That explains it."

"Blaine and Landon are leading them to the staircase and they're going to meet us outside. Where are you?"

"We're on the fifth floor!" Samuel answered, and Ezekiel heard the roar of a Shotgun. "Miedema is cloaked and floating around, staying out of sight. He's going to pick us all up when we get to the roof. We've got less than forty minutes before the satellites are above us and able to spot the Phantom. We have to get out of here and hide again before that."

"Oh, Hell, Sam!" he shouted. "How the Hell are we supposed to do that?"

"If you figure that out, you let me know!" There was a pause, and Zeke heard the Fuel Rod Cannon going off. "Make sure they know to meet us at the roof. We'll hold out for now."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Just go!"

"Consider it done."

Ezekiel turned around just in time to feel the Tank Form's hulking forearm crash into his abdomen, throwing him into the air and letting his body roll until he was suddenly lying on the balcony, facing the night sky.

"Son of a bitch," he growled, standing up to see a dozen of the creatures in the room with him. He concluded that they must have come into the room in another form and transformed in relative silence behind him – that was the only way they could have gotten the jump on him. "You're gonna wish you hadn't done that." He said. "I'm gonna slice you into-"

CRASH!

He was stopped as a large, clawed tentacle surged up through the balcony by his feet, gripping his left ankle and yanking him straight down through the floor before pulling him through the first story wall and flinging him into the lobby like a ragdoll.

"We got…Juggernauts," Zeke said calmly into the team's link, spitting blood onto his visor and feeling the ache in his whole body as his HUD blared incessantly. "The game just got a little more interesting."

* * *

"The roof is just up those stairs!" Samuel was paving the way through the narrow halls, avoiding the open doors on either side, and blasting through the Pure Forms that had gathered in their path. "We're almost there."

"Do you think they'll be able to meet us?" Stephanie asked, watching behind them as the undead periodically emerged from doors they'd passed. "We've barely able to make it, and we were on the third floor before most of them were inside."

Samuel breathed hard, trying not to think about it. He had to believe they'd make it, and a part of him truly did. But there was also a part of him that had no choice but to acknowledge the sheer number of things they'd seen. There were Tank Forms everywhere, and those little spiders had climbed the walls in any of the larger rooms and converted into Ranged Forms, ready to skewer anything that wandered into view. Add to that the Juggernauts-

The wall on his right side suddenly exploded as a Tank Form charged out of it, crashing into Samuel and taking him clean through the opposite wall. They toppled to the floor and he felt his shoulder dislocate as the thing on top of him reared back with its giant limbs-

The weight on his chest vanished as Stephanie grabbed the monster under its arms and lifted – actually lifted – it up and off of the brown-armored Spartan. With a yell that told Sam just how much strain she was putting on herself, she spun to the side and half threw, half rolled the creature through the door-sized windows and off the balcony.

She reached a hand down to help Samuel up, which he graciously took. "Thanks," he said, still regaining his breath.

"Anytime," she answered.

* * *

Landon could hear the howls and shrieks of the undead in the basement all around them. They hadn't made but a little less than eighty feet since Zeke had disappeared; too much had been around to stop them. First an ambush had come from one side before the Spartans even realized the Flood were in the basement with them. That attack alone had claimed the lives of four of the seven civilians, two males and two females.

Less than forty seconds after the initial rush of Combat Forms with Assault Rifles and Battle Rifles had been dealt with, four of the spider-looking Pure Forms had come seemingly out of nowhere and pounced one of the remaining men. Landon had succeeding in clearing them out, but the damage had been done. He was gone.

Now, with only two of the survivors remaining, armed with a pair of pistols and a Battle Rifle, they'd changed their formation. Blaine led the way, swinging the Gravity Hammer at the slightest hint of trouble. Behind him, the two girls stayed close, waving their flashlights and trying to stay alert. And, behind them, Landon had his shields up and a Shotgun pointed at the darkness that followed them.

"How we looking back there?" Blaine asked.

Landon shrugged even though the other Spartan wasn't looking back to see him. "Okay so far," he answered. "Tell me we're close."

"We're close." Blaine said.

"How close?" One of the women asked.

"Close," Blaine growled, clearly not enjoying being questioned. "We'll be there in-"

One of the women began to scream uncontrollably. Landon turned-

Something sharp shot clean through his left arm, lodging itself there, and he could feel something tugging on it. He let out a shout of his own and turned in the direction the shot came from, the way he was being pulled.

"What the Hell?" He shouted, pointing the Shotgun with one hand.

Ten meters away, in the middle of another hall, was what appeared to be a kind of Combat Form. The undead stood roughly the same height as all the others, but it had not been a human, Brute, or Sangheili in any past life. It was limber, thin, and the tentacle-filled mouth that all Combat Forms shared could be seen in what looked like a long, extended maw that the alien had already had. And that wasn't even the scary part.

The worst part about the creature was that, instead of having one "standard" limb like most Combat Forms did and a set of tentacles, this one had two long, loose tentacles in total, one coming from each shoulder. One of them only stretched a couple of feet, ending in a single sharp point that reminded the Spartan of something, though he couldn't put his finger on just what it was.

The other tentacle had stretched the entire length of the hall and stabbed Landon in the arm, piercing straight through his shields, armor, skin and bone.

Without another thought or care to what it was, Landon opened fire with the Shotgun, tearing the undead form apart even at a distance. He felt he gun kick in his hand but ignored it, firing again and again until the creature hit the ground and stopped twitching. Then he pulled the spike from his arm, gritting his teeth as his armor automatically injected biofoam into the wound.

"You okay?" Blaine asked.

Landon nodded, breathing heavily. He turned to see the other Spartan picking up his Gravity Hammer off the ground at the same time he dropped the Battle Rifle that one of the women had been carrying. In the hall opposite the one Landon had been looking down were two more corpses identical to the one he'd made.

And in between him and Blaine, two human bodies were completely still, bleeding heavily through matching holes in their chests.

"What the Hell are those things?" He asked.

"I'd rather not stick around to find out." Blaine answered, turning and moving toward the staircase again.

It was only when he turned around that Landon saw the hole in his armor, right behind his shoulder. There was a mix of blood and fluids from his mechanical pieces, and the biofoam was already sealing the injury.

"One got you too?" Landon asked.

Blaine nodded, stopping only for a moment. "Bastard caught me when I tried to help the girl."

"You okay?"

The white-armored Spartan shrugged. "HUD isn't beeping at me, so I must be fine." He paused. "Let's get the Hell outta here."

* * *

"Sam!" Zeke shouted into his helmet. "I just want you to know: if I die here, I'm gonna be really, really pissed off!" He got the words out just as another Juggernaut took a swing at him with one of its giant limbs-

Ezekiel ducked low and all but felt the tentacle cut the air just above his head.

A moment later, the leader's voice echoed in his helm. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the freakin' lobby, getting my ass kicked!" He risked a glance around the room as the Juggernaut seemed to contemplate its next move. But Ezekiel knew better: the Flood had no reason to contemplate. Gravemind had their moves planned for them. If they were waiting, it was only to further their own ends.

He felt the floor behind him shudder as the Tank dropped from the wall to his left, having just changed forms from a Ranged Form. The swing that came next was expected, and Ezekiel easily dodged to the left, turning around to-

CRASH!

"Bastards!" he shouted as he felt his body soar through the open lobby. The Juggernaut had managed to hit him again, this time at the base of his spine. He hit the wall near the staircase leading to the basement and fell to the floor in a heap.

"Need some help?" Blaine was suddenly beside him, lifting him up by his arm.

"Thanks for that," he answered. Then he saw the hole in Landon's arm and the blood on Blaine's shoulder. They both looked like Hell. "What happened to you guys? Where are the others?"

"New Flood Form," Landon answered, "and they're dead."

Zeke winced as he felt biofoam being applied to his back. "Win some, lose some," he growled, looking around at the monsters that were quickly closing in on them. There were eight Juggernauts, fifteen Pure Forms of all kinds, and six unarmed Combat Forms spread across the lobby, all intent on ending their lives.

"So," Blaine said, "care to make a run for the door?"

Ezekiel scowled. "Can't," he said. "Samuel wants us to meet him for extraction on the roof."

"You're shitting me." Landon said.

Zeke shook his head. "Nope."

"This ought to be fun." Blaine said, raising the hammer. "So, I'll take four Juggernauts. You each take two."

"Go to Hell," Ezekiel laughed. "I'll take four. You take two."

"You couldn't even take one." Blaine mocked.

"Lucky shot." The Spartan paused. "Demon, Stim-Pack."

"Give the biofoam a minute," the AI answered, "then you'll get your adrenaline."

"Damn it, you digital pain-in-the-ass, give me my shot so that I can live long enough for the biofoam to serve a purpose!"

"Fine," the AI answered, conceding much quicker than usual. Zeke felt the shot in his neck and waited for the effects to take hold. It wouldn't be long; a few moments and he should start feeling the pain in his body to dull and fade away.

"So…how we gonna do this?" Landon asked.

"Same way we always do," Blaine answered, "kill everything in the room that doesn't look like us." He looked at Zeke. "You drugged yet?"

"Oh yeah," he answered, twisting back and cracking his neck. "Let's do it."

* * *

**Author's Notes: I intend to get the end of this fight out ASAP. Expect it to possibly be a slightly shorter-than-usual chapter and then expect the next one to be back to normal length. Just a heads-up. :)**

**Thanks all!**


	15. Chapter 14: CQB

**Author's Notes: Hi all. :)**

**This one's about 4,500 words. Nothing super-long, but hopefully enough to keep you entertained 'til the next one is ready. I'm gonna do reviews really fast so I can get to bed before 3:30am. Thanks!**

**REVIEWS:**

**Drake S. Hellion: Hey! Glad you seemed to enjoy the last one! Also, I looked up Gamma Company to make sure I had my facts straight - weren't they left on Onyx, or rather inside the Dyson Sphere that "inside" the planet? I didn't know of any history of them after that, but I've been busy. :)  
****Also, glad you liked Gravemind's...tactics. ;) Thanks for reviewing for me!**

**ching965: LOL, I appreciate the compliment. :) I'm not that special though - it was just a new idea I had, and I thought it would reinforce the idea that, essentially, they're all alone in this. Still, glad you liked the concept. Also, you'll get to see plenty of the new Flood here. Thanks very much!**

**xcavars: Yeah, look here! Jerk! JK. ;)  
I should note that the point of it wasn't to give this painting of Sam as someone who hasn't hardened to an extent - he just has a different motivation than some. For those who essentially fought only to protect Earth and humanity as a whole, killing hundreds of people wouldn't be an easy task. Even for those who fought for their own reasons (mostly hatred of the Covenant), it's easier...but it's still extremely taxing. For someone like Sam, or for Stephanie, it's considerably more so, because it strains against every moral fiber in their bodies.  
Anyway, just the two-cents from the author. ;) Thank you!**

**Mhop12: A few days...close enough. ;)**

**JiraiyaTheToadSage: Glad you liked the last one. Can't promise the hostility to last though - can only go on for so long before push comes to shove. ;) Thanks for reviewing!**

**4master: I won't answer that question...that's up to you. :)**

**killerman83ca: I have been fortunate enough to play through Reach's Campaign and toy around on Firefight for several hours (gotta love game-nights). It's a great game, and I can't wait to cave in and buy it, lol. That being said, I appreciate the review, and I'm sorry no one survived last time...civilians just aren't resilient in this setting. :(**

**Magicfreako: Seriously - I WISH! :)  
Thanks much!**

**Klinestife: Well, since this was your first time reviewing (but a long-time reader, right?), pleasure to meet you, and I'm sincerely glad you enjoyed the ride thus far. :) Also, thanks for the compliments...although I won't claim for a second that any of my early writing is in the slightest bit mature or good, for that matter. _  
My submission goes very slowly. It's an ongoing war with my girlfriend where I try to convince her (and a few others) that it's difficult to balance school, time for a life, writing Hell On Earth, AND editing The Last Stand. I haven't mastered it yet... :(  
Still, thanks so much for your review, and I hope you'll stick around!**

**FireWolfFred: Glad you liked! :)  
New Flood isn't THAT exciting...wait for the real deal I have cooking. You're gonna love it.  
In the meantime, happy reading and don't hesitate to let me know what's on your mind! Thanks!**

**Bombsty: lol, thank you for the sympathy...it's good to have at least one in the house. ;)  
I'm trying to work on the "timely" part...just doesn't always go smoothly.  
Thank you! And Enjoy!**

**armoured-blade: You again? I thought we got rid of you. ;)  
Kidding! Welcome back! Missed your input, and your harassment - honestly, a guy has no motivation anymore.  
Question-answer time:  
1. I didn't specify because it was very dark, and I wanted a LITTLE mystery before this chapter...it's really not a hard guess. ;)  
2. Yeah...it's been a while since he's used them. Though...they won't be much help this time around.  
3. We talked about the deal, but, to recap for anyone else reading: Gravemind is a liar. _  
4. I'm glad SOMEONE liked their chat and commented. It was OBSCENELY hard for me to write. I like action so much better - it comes easy to me.  
5. It will be absolute chaos when they find Vic again...as for when you'll see her...half dozen chapters? That's the official answer. :)  
6. Magnus? He'll show up. Eventually.  
7. The Atonement is still around, but it has to stay fairly far off in order to avoid having the MAC Guns unload on it.  
8. You should apologize! Not sure what for...but with you, it's a safe bet. ;)  
9. All in all, I'm very glad you enjoyed it. It was a mix for me - tried to do some of both worlds in it, and I think it went okay. This one is back to the "norm" a bit, so hopefully I can still write a fight-scene with some semblence of skill...  
Thanks Ben!**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and enjoy chapter 14!**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 14:

– **CQB –**

**0300 Hours - July 19, 2553**

**Abandoned Hotel - Orovada, Nevada**

It wasn't something that Landon could deny. The forces that surrounded him and the other two Spartans were daunting, at best. Maybe they'd get out without casualties, without major injury, but it was a roll of the dice. Eight Juggernauts, now twenty Pure Forms – most of which were Tanks – and a dozen Combat Forms were standing in a concave formation around them, all biding their time, waiting.

The staircase that led into the basement was behind them. They could still turn and escape down inside if they had to, but to what end? The Flood could only be waiting for one thing: reinforcements. Every second that the fight dragged on, Zulu Company was another second closer to being ludicrously outnumbered and eventually overwhelmed.

"I'll take middle." Blaine said, stepping forward. "Landon, take the left."

The biomechanical Spartan hardened under orders. "Sure." He said, bringing the Shotgun to bear. "Zeke got the right?"

"You figure that out all by yourself?" The black-armored soldier asked, rolling his wrists before snapping them at his sides, activating the twin Energy Swords.

Landon ignored his comment. "You think we'll get any backup while we're stuck down here?"

"Doubt it," Blaine answered. "Sam and Steph are on the roof. We're on our own."

Landon forced a grin. "Then let's take it to 'em!"

The Spartans leapt forward, into a mess of hostile Flood Forms, lashing out in every direction while simultaneously trying to keep from getting sliced, diced, smashed, or crushed by the returning strikes.

Normally, Landon would have shied away from this kind of fight. It was up close and personal against greater numbers, along with superior coordination and firepower. He had shields mounted to his armor – not guns. There was nothing for him to do in a fight like this but bide his time and wait for one of his enemies to make a mistake. The Shotgun did a decent job of evening the odds against the smaller Flood Forms, but it was reduced to a toy in the face of the Juggernauts.

But, for the same reasons, this was precisely the kind of battle that Blaine and Ezekiel lived for. It was a struggle against the odds, and they could feel the life of each hostile draining away – at least, in a manner of speaking. There was no slow, methodical approach. No careful planning or surprise attack.

It was all out war.

* * *

Blaine gripped the former-human's head in his hand as the monster lashed out with its tentacles, hitting him square in the chest. The Spartan felt his shields shimmer and die, but he didn't loosen his grip. Instead, he clenched his fist, crushing the skull in his hand before striking with his other hand, reducing the undead creature to a lifeless pile of flesh and bone.

"We got company!" Landon shouted, motioning to the staircase that he and Blaine had come up.

The white-armored Spartan turned around and let out an irritated groan. There, at the top of the steps, stood four of the monsters that they had dispatched in the basement. Blaine hadn't bothered to get a close look the first time around, but now he knew exactly what they had reminded him of.

"Stalkers?" Zeke asked. "Are those infected Stalkers?"

Blaine nodded. "That's my guess."

They were the right size and shape. The beasts stood roughly as tall as the Spartans, but were thinner, leaner. Their mouths stuck out several inches from the rest of their skulls, but the Flood Infection Form's tentacles could still be seen poking out of them. Their eyes were glazed over, dead.

But it was their limbs that drew the most attention, much like when the aliens had been alive and well. Now, however, instead of their arms ending in a scythe-like appendage made of some nigh-indestructible material, they were different. The scythe was straighter and shorter, more closely resembling a knife or the end of a spear. To make matters worse, the limbs were longer, and from what Blaine had seen in the basement, they could stretch and shrink to an extent at will, reinforcing his "spear" thought even more. They were walking monsters with two mounted spears that could be "fired" at will and brought back-

"And God only knows what else they can do." He said.

"Pity," Zeke answered. "They look even less resilient than before."

"They're fast." Landon added. "Didn't even see them strike in the basem-"

Two of them lashed out at once, one at Blaine and the other at Ezekiel. The white-armored soldier slid to one side just in time to dodge the shot-

"That's because you're slow." Zeke said loudly, and Blaine looked up to see him holding the creature's limbs in his hands, gripping them just above the spike, where regular, undead flesh was all that was holding it together. "Now get over here!"

He yanked the monster's limbs his way and somehow they held, jerking the former-stalker off its legs and flinging it forward, sliding across the ground until-

SMASH!

His left boot came down on the monster's back, penetrating all the way to the floor. Zeke laughed coldly, dropping the limp arms to the ground.

"Showoff," Blaine snapped.

"I'll take these guys." Ezekiel said. "Give me about forty seconds – then I'll help you deal with the others."

"Watch your back," Blaine said, rolling his eyes. "Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Aw," the other Spartan answered sarcastically. "I'm touched at your display of compassion. Maybe we should make this a weekly thing."

"Maybe you should get busy before I come over there and break you in half."

"Uh, guys." Landon's voice was more than a little nervous. "I know how you love the banter…but they're kinda closing in on me."

Blaine turned away from Zeke and the three remaining Stalkers to face Landon, who was indeed being surrounded by basically every other Flood Form in the room. There were even a few more Combat Forms now, which meant that the rest of the reinforcements were likely closing in faster than anyone had anticipated.

"Alright, we gotta get a move on." Blaine growled. "Zeke, do it quick! It's time to get the Hell outta Dodge!"

Zeke's answer was short and confident. "Count on it."

"What do you wanna do about…all this?" Landon's head was darting back and forth, looking at the large number of forces that were now almost completely surrounding them both.

"First things first," Blaine answered, putting the hammer on his back and grabbing his other favorite weapon. "Time to blow some shit up." He shouldered the launcher, looking around at each Juggernaut in the room. "Eeny, meeny, miny…you."

* * *

The rocket soared out of the launcher, speeding through the lobby, leaving black smoke in its wake. It was on a direct course to detonate right in the face of one of the Juggernauts standing near the far corner of the room, even though the creature had already placed its two nigh-indestructible limbs in an "X" formation in front of its body.

BOOM!

The explosive detonated against the monster's tentacles, sending smoke and debris in all directions-

Blaine was already sprinting, slamming the launcher back onto his armor and bringing his hammer to bear. The Juggernaut was blind – and he knew it. The Spartan was twenty feet away and on a dead run when he abruptly turned right and jumped directly into the wall, turning in mid-air and bracing his feet against the foundation of the room before leaping off, gaining just enough height that he could stare the monster right in its tentacle-filled maw-

SLAM!

No sooner had Blaine disappeared into the smoke left by the rocket that Landon heard the hammer come crashing down on the beast's defenseless upper torso. He could almost feel the altered gravity, even halfway across the room, and while it was impressive, it was no shock at all when the giant Pure Form was flung backwards, crashing clean through the wall of the hotel and causing the entire structure to threaten to give way around them.

"Damn, dude!" Landon shouted, feeling the whole building shake. "What the Hell?"

Blaine didn't answer. He hit the ground solid and swinging. The first Tank Form to charge him came from behind, and the Spartan didn't even glance first – he just held the hammer with both hands and spun his whole body around, catching the Flood Form in the abdomen and sending it soaring through the air.

Something moved behind Landon, and he jumped to the side-

SLAM!

He could all but feel the wind off the tentacle that smashed into the ground beside him. When he looked up, several Juggernauts and even more of the smaller Flood had gathered around him.

"Oh…come on." He said, glancing back and forth. "I'm not built for this shit."

* * *

"Did you feel that?" Stephanie asked. Her tone told Samuel that she was as worried as he was – maybe more.

"Yeah," he answered. He was worried, but he knew that they were waging war below him, and he refused to keep trying to contact them. The last thing they needed were distractions when the odds were already stacked against them. He wanted to rush down and help, but by the time he and Stephanie arrived, the others could be gone, or the battle over…someone had to wait atop the building and keep an eye out for the inevitable storm of reinforcements.

Still, he was tired of sitting on the roof, trying to wait it out. Miedema was still anxiously awaiting orders, cloaked and well-hidden. Stephanie was going stir-crazy.

"Forget this." He said.

Stephanie seemed to brighten up. "What's the plan?"

He pointed at their feet…or, more specifically, the roof they were standing on, right in the middle. "Grab the Fuel Rod Gun."

* * *

"I'm insulted!" Zeke shouted, dodging to the left to avoid one of the dangerous, spiked limbs that were shooting his way. "This is the best your monsters can do?"

No answer came except for a noise that was irritatingly similar to the shrieks that the Stalkers had made while still alive. The three infected aliens spread out, forming a triangle around the Spartan and bracing themselves, tensing every deteriorating muscle in their repulsive bodies.

The one on the left struck first, sending its left arm, then its right, straight at him. The first was easily dodged. The second…even more so.

Zeke twisted his body to the right as second tentacle flew by him, grabbing it with his left hand and simultaneously twisting his arm to let the attached offensive mount slice through the weakened muscle that held it together. As the beast let out a horrific scream behind him, he just continued the motion, finally flinging the makeshift dagger at the Flood Form to his right-

"Bull's-eye!" he laughed, watching the incredibly-sharp blade pierce the monster's chest with ease before popping the Infection Form lodged inside. A second later, the corpse hit the ground, unmoving.

"How you doing over there?" Blaine's voice was slightly strained, but nothing that raised alarm.

"Two down," Zeke answered.

"Only two?" the other Spartan answered. "Forty-seconds my ass."

"More like two and a half, actually," he corrected.

"So, was that forty-seconds each, or did you just want to do a nice, round number?"

Zeke grinned, turning to the only beast with both limbs still intact. "You're next, freak." He took off on a sprint for the Stalker, dodging to the sides and ducking to avoid the strikes that were sent his way. When he close enough, he activated the Energy Swords, jumping to the left before-

The beast leapt clean over his head with no warning whatsoever, striking from above half-a-dozen times before hitting the ground, almost twenty feet away. Ezekiel barely managed to block the attacks, still dumbfounded at the creature's jumping ability. A moment later, he had recovered from the shock and was suddenly more annoyed than threatened.

"No." He growled, turning around and shaking his head. "Just no." He pulled out the M6G at his thigh and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The beast fell, a single hole in its chest, where the Infection Form had previously been taking root.

The Spartan rolled his eyes. "Little-"

He heard the scream several yards behind him and immediately knew what to expect. He'd encountered the Stalkers before, and the Flood knew that humans – unlike them – were most susceptible to attacks from behind, and in general, the higher on the body, the better. Add to that the fact that Zeke had a level of sensitivity that bordered on precognitive, ready for anything, at a moment's notice...

Though, admittedly, the large mirror hanging on the wall of the lobby in front of him was helpful too.

He cocked his head to the left as the spiked arm surged through the air where his skull had just been. In a fraction of a second, he gripped the limb with his right hand, then began tugging.

"Big mistake!" He said without turning around. Using both hands, he started pulling the limb forward a bit at a time as if it were a rope or a hose, each tug bringing the beast behind him a little bit closer.

And with each pull, he heard the monster's screams a little better.

"Come on!" He shouted. "Get your undead, alien ass over here!"

Suddenly, the creature stopped resisting and ran toward him, screaming as loudly as ever. Zeke continued to grip the arm closer and closer to its base until, finally, he could hear the beast almost directly behind him.

"Up you go!" He bent down and lifted the creature by its tentacle, bringing it up and over his head before slamming it onto the floor. When it was safely down, he calmly walked over and crushed its ugly, extended face.

"Done over there?" It was Blaine again.

"Yeah."

"Then a little help would be nice, you asshole!" This time the voice was Landon's. Ezekiel glanced over in time to watch the other Spartan activate his twin shields and put them up in front of him-

SLAM!

Just in time for the force of a Juggernaut's swing to lift him up and off the ground, shields and all. Landon smashed into the wall of the lobby, just above the front doors.

"You were almost out of here." Zeke mused. "A little lower-"

He barely jumped back in time to dodge the enormous tentacle that pierced the ground where he had just been standing. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough to get out of the way when that same tentacle surged straight up from under him, catching him from below and throwing him up, into the ceiling-

Then letting him fall, straight back onto the floor.

"Son of a-"

The strike came from the left and sent him crashing into the wall, where he fell to the floor for a second time, landing in heap. He struggled to stand up, but found that his entire body hurt.

_Probably from being hit the first time_, he thought bitterly, still feeling the exact spot where he'd been smacked. Spartan or not, MJOLNIR armor or not, it was less than pleasant. Finally, he found the will to stand, balancing on shaky legs, pissed as ever.

"Hey, you okay over there?" Blaine asked.

"Fine!" Zeke yelled, struggling to keep his voice level. "I'm fine! I just got hi…shit!"

He dove to the side and was suddenly face-down on the ground again, laying flat to avoid the giant, undead limb that tore through the wall where he had just been.

But what he hadn't counted on was that same limb moving straight to the left, tearing part of the wall down as it moved and weakening the rest of the foundation around it.

* * *

"Zeke!" Landon was shouting, but Blaine couldn't be bothered to turn around. All he could do was stare at the four Juggernauts that had encircled him, waiting.

"Well?" he snapped. "What are you freaks waiting for, an engraved invit-"

The attack wasn't a surprise. It was just too fast to block. Actually, one wouldn't have been too fast – but four strikes at the same time, from every direction, was considerably more than the white-armored Spartan could fend off.

Blaine flew through a wooden table in the center of the lobby, straight through the main counter where guests would have checked in ages before, and slammed into the wall, landing on his knees, braced on one elbow.

"Getting…so tired…of this shit." He growled, looking up-

Then he saw it.

"Hell yes!" He whispered, looking at the open cabinet full of alcoholic beverages. He grabbed two large bottles and stood up. "Hey! Freaks! Catch!"

The bottles went straight at the nearest Tank Form and Juggernaut. The Tank took it, right to the face, but the Juggernaut brought its limbs up as a shield, causing the bottle to shatter against them…

And then splash expensive whiskey all over it.

"Let's see what else we've got in here…" Blaine was whispering to himself as the beasts came closer, looking through the cabinet to see just how much ammunition he had. He smiled.

There was a lot of it.

"Last call, ladies!" He grabbed more bottles two at a time and threw them as hard as he could, being careful to find new targets and not repeatedly douse any of them. In under twenty seconds, Blaine Everson had thrown more than forty bottles of alcoholic – highly flammable – liquid, and covered most of the lobby and at least hit each undead beast in it.

"Blaine," the voice was Sam's.

"Yeah, boss?" He was grinning to widely even to notice Samuel's apprehension.

"How you guys doing down there?"

"Well…" Blaine surveyed the room. "Landon's jumped onto the stairs that lead to the upper floors, running from a pair of Juggernauts." He paused, turning. "Zeke's buried under a piece of the first-floor ceiling that caved in."

"Is he okay?"

"Let me check." He focused on the other Spartan. "Hey! Smartass! You still kickin' in there?"

There was a long silence, followed by a bitter, "go…to Hell."

"He's fine, Sam."

"Steph and I are coming down." Samuel answered. "I'm gonna blaze a hole with the Spartan Laser. Just give me a location where the shot will actually be of some use."

If it was possible, Blaine's grin widened. "Oh, I've got just the spot."

* * *

"Son of a…" Zeke's words drifted off as he forced his back to rise, pushing the rubble off his body as he slowly, carefully stood up. "Damn, that hurts." Ironically, it was his head that hurt worse than anything else, despite being untouched in the attacks and covered when the ceiling fell on him.

"Gonna make it?" Demon asked.

"Yes." He snapped.

The Spartan glanced around, trying to gauge what all was left. To his dismay, the answer was: almost everything that had been there when he'd gotten buried. There were six Juggernauts, seven Tanks, and a pair of Combat Forms standing around – most of them focused on Blaine. Two of the Juggernauts had moved away from the middle of the room and were harassing Landon on the stairs.

"Hey Zeke!" Blaine shouted, his voice echoing painfully in the Spartan's helmet, exacerbating his headache.

"What?"

"Look what I can do." The other Spartan held up his right hand for everything in the room to see. And then…he snapped his fingers.

It took Ezekiel several seconds to process what happened next. A blood-red beam of light came straight down from the ceiling in the middle of the room, engulfing the center of a Juggernaut that had been standing there and – for some reason – setting the entire room ablaze. The floor and the Flood Form caught first, but then it spread uncontrollably, catching nearly every other monster nearby and already starting to reduce them to ash-

SLAM!

Samuel's giant form crashed down on the fallen Juggernaut from the hole in the ceiling, landing feet-first with both his Shotguns already raised. There were only a few of the Flood left now, including the two Juggernauts that had been attacking Landon and a single Tank Form that was squaring off with the other Spartans.

SLAM!

Stephanie landed beside him with her arms up and her fists clenched. The Tank Form suddenly charged them and she immediately began running toward it, meeting the monster halfway and lifting it up and off of the ground before they both fell to the ground and she sent her fist into the beast's mouth and tore out a fleshy handful of biomass.

Zeke could do nothing – he just stood there, staring.

To be fair, Blaine and Samuel were striking the exact same pose, probably wondering the same thing he was. _What the Hell was that?_

She stood up, panting, apparently noticing that they were staring at her. "I…am ready…to go home." She said.

"Hey guys!" Landon shouted. "Still got two more if you wanna lend a hand! I'm not exactly equipped to deal with a pair of them!"

"I got 'em." Samuel said, pumping the Shotguns. He fired a blast from each into the backs of the Juggernauts, instantly getting their undivided attention.

"You're not seriously gonna let him have all the fun, are you?" Demon asked.

Zeke thought about it. He still hurt all over, and the very first shot he had taken hadn't completely faded.

Still, it was a Juggernaut, and it was payback time.

"Hell no!" he answered. He took a step forward and felt something crunch beneath his boot-

It was the body of one of the Stalkers, and both its limbs were still intact. He knelt down and cut them both off at the base of the claw. Originally, he had done it to take one with him and have Demon look at the material – but the moment he picked them up, he got a better idea.

* * *

BANG! BANG!

Samuel opened fire on two beasts, careful not to get too close, but also careful not to give them too much range on him – their tentacles were much more dangerous than the Shotguns in his hands at any real distance.

"You want any help?" Stephanie asked.

In truth, he didn't, but Samuel knew that they were in a hurry. He knew that he didn't have the luxury of treating battle like a game, not like the others. He sighed.

"Sure. Have at it."

Blaine laughed loudly. "Stephanie, blast him!"

"With what?"

"The Fuel Rods! What else?"

She complied, shouldering the launcher and firing a pair of green balls of the plasma at the closest towering Pure Form. As Samuel expected, the twin tentacles came up in an "X" formation and blocked the shots entirely-

Before he could blink, Blaine had the hammer up and was in the air, jumping off of the counter to get enough vertical distance to actually come down on the undead giant.

"No way," Stephanie's tone was laced with disbelief.

SLAM!

Blaine brought the hammer down on the top of the monster, slamming it into the floor of the lobby, less than three feet from Samuel's right hand-

BANG!

The roar of the Shotgun echoed around the room, and the Juggernaut's tentacle-filled maw was instantly reduced to mush.

"What the Hell!" Blaine shouted. "Seriously, Sam?"

"Don't complain." He answered. "I let you help. I am impressed with the jump though."

"I can't believe it worked twice."

"What?"

"He did it already!" Landon shouted, and Samuel watched him block a shot from the last Juggernaut. "Stale moves, Blaine! Stale moves!"

"Just because none of yours even work the first time," Blaine answered, "don't bitch at me!"

"Blaine," Samuel interrupted. "Please go kill the other."

SLAM!

Landon hit the ground two meters away and stood up shakily, clutching his head. "Yeah," he growled, "go kill the other…before it kills me!"

"You're such a wuss."

Landon stood up straight and faced the white-armored Spartan, completely ignoring the behemoth that was slowly approaching them. "I am out of rockets." He stated irritably. "My Shotgun was torn from my hands and stepped on. I have no grenades left." He paused. "My damn shield on my left arm is malfunctioning." Samuel heard the biomechanical soldier take a deep breath, as if trying to calm down. "Give me a damn break!"

Blaine shrugged, turning to face the Juggernaut. "Well, since no one else is going to deal with you-"

"I've got this one!" Zeke sped by him, a pair of strange-looking claws in his hands. He jumped at the Juggernaut, dodging the tentacles, and stabbed the creature in the lower abdomen with the claw in his right hand. Then he threw his left arm up and stabbed the monster with the other blade, a foot higher this time.

His right hand drew back, pulling the blade with it, and he raised it higher, stabbing the monster yet again…and again – effectively climbing up the beast with the twin spikes. Finally, he stabbed the monster at either side of its ugly mouth-

The Juggernaut's tentacle came up from under Zeke, but he must have seen it coming, because he jumped back, grabbing with both hands and hanging on it as it lifted him higher.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Landon's voice was full of a combination of scorn and awe as he watched Zeke thrust his legs out in front of him, toward the Juggernaut, and rested the bottom of each boot on a spike-

He let go of the tentacle and pushed his legs out – hard – and flew backwards, jamming each of the claws more than a foot deep into the Pure Form. Then he flipped once in the air and landed solidly on his feet.

"You ever get tired of showing off?" Samuel asked.

The other Spartan shook his head "no", but said nothing.

Samuel took a breath, looked around, double-checking for threats. When he was convinced there were none, he called Miedema.

"Hey Joel, what do you see out there?"

It took a moment, but then he heard, "reinforcements are mostly coming from the North, Sam. You guys ready to go? We gotta move."

"We'll be on the roof in sixty."

"Meet you there."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were clear of the hotel, the town, the satellites floating somewhere in space above. There had been no Flood around when Miedema showed up, but the whole team had seen them in the distance as the Phantom took off, all but completely invisible. They had escaped.

Barely.

To be fair, the battle had been dealt with relatively handily, given the sheer number and strength of the forces Gravemind had had available. They'd fought well, even for Spartans. The team was getting used to the Flood's forces, to adapting to new circumstances and new foes. Still, this had been something different entirely. The number of Juggernauts alone was considerably higher than anything they'd seen before in such a small area. That meant one of two things. Gravemind was getting smarter, learning to send the best in first and leave the Combat Forms for other duties…

Or he was getting desperate, and these forces were at the ready, for fear that Zulu Company would strike again. They had slipped by him once now, escaped unscathed. Not only that, but he had gone to all the trouble of broadcasting Zulu as "demons" for the whole world to watch out for.

_If that's not "desperation", I don't know what is._

Was it possible that they could catch the Flood off-guard? Was Gravemind questioning their end-game yet? Worrying about it? Did he already have some idea of what they sought out to do, even if he didn't know how they would go about accomplishing it?

Clearly he wasn't feeling as safe as he had forty-eight hours prior, if he was looking for a way to stop them at any cost…that alone meant something even greater than their last victory: it meant that the great, nigh-omniscient, all-but-unstoppable Gravemind was feeling threatened...genuinely threatened. Beyond that…perhaps the Spartans could even instill the meaning of fear – of panic – into that monster.

Gravemind had made it apparent more than once that he was not above "human" emotions. His rage when Ezekiel had tricked him aboard the Assault Carrier gave testament to that. Never mind the unbridled hatred he had toward Zulu Company in particular. But who could blame him for that? They were out to ruin him for good.

After all, if their assumptions were correct, and the Flood were limited to Earth and Earth alone, its destruction would mean their demise once and for all, something even the Forerunner had been unable to accomplish…

"Lost in your head over there?" Zeke asked.

"He's right," Samuel added. "You've been quiet since we left. What's on your mind?"

Blaine smiled. "Not a thing, boss. Just waiting for round two."

Sam laughed quietly. "You'll have it soon. We arrive in Mombasa tonight, then it's back to Silhouette to pay Jason a visit."

"And then?" Zeke asked, though his tone made it clear that he knew the answer – he just wanted it to be said aloud.

"And then," Samuel finished, "we pay ONI a visit, and we find Vic."

"Plan's coming together," Landon said hopefully.

"Not yet it's not," Sam answered. "We got a ways to go yet. Just keep your heads up – we're off to a good start."

* * *

**Author's Notes: That's it for this one! Let me know what you thought. I'm working on the next one as you read this.**

**Well, probably not right this second, if you read this shortly after it's posted, as it's 3:30 and I'm going to bed...but tomorrow! Back to work!**

**Night all,**

**- Raptor**


	16. Chapter 15: Detour

**Author's Notes: For the record - I said I would have a second chapter out by the end of the weekend. It is now 7:16 when I am uploading this and beginning to write Reviews. Anyone who doubted me (*cough* Ben *cough*) owes me a sincere apology, I think. ;)**

**REVIEWS:**

**Klinestife: lol, you should read first. Then review, so I know what you thought. :P  
And yes, I do tend to update very late, as I'm a night-owl, and that's the best time for me to find peace and no distractions, as all the normal people are sleeping. Thanks for the review!**

**Mhop12: lol, no worries. Most of the time a few days won't end up having too much missed. ;)  
And yes, Blaine is probably the scariest Spartan in existance. I like him that way. Thanks!**

**armoured-blade: YOU! I'll be waiting for a recant of your statement. lolf  
You made a good point about the word re-use. The problem, most of the time, is that I end up writing pieces of a chapter here, there, and everywhere, over a week or two, and it while I wouldn't reuse a word like that if I sat down and typed it all out at once...I don't remember that I used it a week later. And I don't always catch it proofing myself. :(  
Your second point was good too...more proofing that should have taken place on my part. Actually, there's about a two-sentence gap that didn't get saved in between drafts, and so it looks very off. I intend to fix that once I get around to posting this. Thank you for pointing it out to me. :)  
Blaine is utterly terrifying with his new hammer. At least, that kind of the idea. lol. As for Zeke, I like your comment, "don't want anyone to think any of the characters are completely invincible". The irony is that, while they are not, I think Blaine will end up coming across that way more than anyone. He just doesn't play around quite as much.  
I'm so glad SOMEONE liked the mirror. :P  
Also, you and a few others commented on the Spartans getting less screen-time, and I will be tending to Landon, Stephanie and - in terms of combat - Samuel as well in the next few chapters (including this one). It's hard to maintain a balance, but community input on where I'm at is always helpful!  
And no, it wasn't at all negative. I appreciate the input and the criticism (and especially the compliments), and I welcome it all.  
And YES, next one in three days. ;) Thanks, man!**

**Drake S. Hellion: Glad you enjoyed it. :) And I'm thrilled that someone liked Blaine's little moment. Felt appropriate, given the alcohol was his idea.  
Thank you for all the information on Gamma. I will look into them and if they could fit anywhere in the current plotline. More than anything, I don't want to be "off the wall" by having a large team of Spartans around (even if they are SIII's) and have them be completely unmentioned. I doubt they play an integral part in the story, as it's almost completely planned out...but anything is possible.  
Thanks very much!**

**AosUnderSol: lol, I can't give him too many more weapons now. There's still a third book coming with cool stuff for everyone. ;) Thanks!**

**0756: Hey! Long time, no see! It's good to see you're still around and reading!  
As for the chapter...yes, yes it did. I don't know if not splitting it would have helped it, but I do empathize with the notion that it felt long and drawn out, even though I tried to avoid it. :(  
And I mentioned to armoured-blade that a few reviewers have commented on Steph, Landon, or both, and I will be doing my best to give them some limelight in the next few chapters. I try to get at least a decent balance (some characters are major and others are minor - but it should still be fair), and input from readers is my best tool for finding it. :)  
So yeah, hopefully you'll be pleased with the next few chapters!  
Thank you for the review, and enjoy!**

**xcavars: They're both legitimate ways of looking at the situation, and reading is always an interpretive activity to an extent. That was simply my take on it, and how I meant it to come out. :)  
As for your question...I honestly don't know. I mean, the Reach Spartans were incredible. I loved the characters, and their fighting scenes (what few there were) were very well done. As far as training goes...I feel like they'd be roughly on par. Zulu's armament would be superior though (save for Armor Effects, if you count them), and don't forget that most of that team was Spartan III's, so they're automatically smaller and don't have quite the same muscle mass (look at Jorge compared to the others, lol).  
So yeah, those are my thoughts. :)**

**killerman83ca: lol, glad you liked. As for Zeke's lines...those are all pre-determined by the situation, but I can promise you'll see comebacks of all kinds over time. :)**

**Cailus Griffin: Hi! I'm glad you enjoyed the previous chapters (even if I did not, lol). I didn't think they were anything spectacular, but I am glad that they were enjoyed overall.  
Also, you are the third person to comment on the hierarchy lately, and how it hasn't been quite fair to the others, in regards to screen-time or just combat prowess. I do try to hit an overarching balance, even though, like you said: there are tiers even within the best of the best. And, with that said, I will be trying to work on balance for Stephanie, Landon and - to an extent - Samuel as well over the next few chapters. Input is always appreciated, and will help me to maintain the best balance possible. :)  
****Again, I'm glad you enjoyed it, and trust me - I can't wait to have Vic back. She's kind of an integral part of the team, and I miss her. :(  
Also, thank you for the information on Gamma. Like I mentioned to Hellion, I will look into them as a part of the story - it would be very strange for a large group of Spartans (even SIII's) to be present on Earth and yet not be sent to fight the Flood. The story is planned out, but I will see what kind of wiggle room I can find for the sake of being almost close to nearly canon. ;)  
Thanks very much for your review. I like long, thought-out ones (they prove to me that people not only read it, but thought about the good and bad of it). So know that I appreciate it and I hope you'll have more half-drunked reviews for me in the future. :)**

**Patrick05: lol, slow down. I don't post that fast. ;)  
But in all seriousness, I hope you enjoy the story as far as its come, and perhaps you'll have more to say later? :)  
Thanks!**

**Wow. With that all taken care of...Chapter 15 awaits. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 15:**

– **Detour –**

**1700 Hours - July 19, 2553**

**Phantom Dropship - Above Tanzania, Africa**

"Everybody: status."

Zeke was first. "All systems green, Sam."

"Hammer's not quite charged yet, and I'm a little low on explosives. Otherwise, I'm all set." Blaine's voice was calm, easy. For such a potentially-dangerous mission coming up, he wasn't the slightest bit concerned. Or, if he was, no one would've been the wiser.

"Shield is working again," Landon stated. "I'm low on everything though – we need explosives…and some shells wouldn't hurt either."

Samuel had to agree on the last point. Landon's Shotgun had been totaled in the last fight, so the smaller Spartan was borrowing one of his. They hadn't had much to take when they left Silhouette – anything more than what they had, and they'd have left the craft completely defenseless.

Now they were paying the price. Rocket Launcher ammunition was almost completely exhausted; Shotgun shells were in short supply, and grenades were dwindling.

"Maulers are full," Stephanie said. "But I've got fourteen Fuel Rods left. After that, I'm exclusively CQB."

Samuel nodded, sighing. There was a significant risk involved with attacking Mombasa so quickly after leaving Los Angeles. The odds were already stacked against them – could they afford to hand the Flood another advantage by not being properly armed?

_No,_ Samuel concluded, _we can't._

"We need supplies." He said loudly. "If we have to, we'll go back to Silhouette to re-arm, but it'll cost us time we don't really have. Suggestions?"

"I've got one." Joel said from the cockpit. "Mombasa was heavily populated, both with civilians and with government personnel. There were more secret bases and facilities scattered around the region than you'd ever believe. One that I'm thinking of in particular might be just the ticket."

"The Elites glassed not only Mombasa," Landon said, "but the surrounding area too. Nothing anywhere near ground-zero is still worth anything."

Joel was undeterred. "It was quite a ways west of the Flood infestation." He paused. "No promises, but if the place is still standing, you'll find an armory on the second sublevel."

"Someone's had plenty of experience," Blaine said.

"I was stationed there for a while before the Flood launched their full-scale attack on Earth. I know the area well enough to get you in and out in under two hours."

Samuel only had to consider the option for a few seconds before concluding that it was the best one they had. Even if it added a little unnecessary risk by landing twice near New Mombasa, it was still better than the alternative.

"Sounds good, Joel." He said. "Take us there first."

"Already on our way," he answered.

* * *

An hour later, the Phantom was circling the remains of the ONI Base that Joel referred to as the "Foxhole". From what Landon could tell, it was nothing but an oversized bunker at ground-level. The aerial view only showed a short, titanium box that wasn't much bigger than a standard garage.

"Entrance is on the east side." Joel said. "I'll drop you off and let you do your thing. You'll need Gael or Demon to get inside, but once you're in, it should be an easy run to the basement. Satellites haven't picked up a single Flood-infested being for miles."

"Perfect," Samuel answered.

"You want me to land right outside, or should I give drop you in the closest town? It's about a mile to the east, a mostly suburban area outside Mbulu."

Landon watched Samuel, waiting on a response. It wasn't hard to know the considerations speeding through the leading Spartan's mind: on one hand, landing outside the structure risked detection on the off-chance the base was populated and had any way to detect them. On the other, landing in town risked being seen by people who may or may not have witnessed Gravemind's latest broadcast.

"ONI bases are as secure as they can be," Zeke noted. "If the Flood do have eyes inside, and we land too close, we're handing the Phantom over on a silver platter."

Blaine nodded. "I'm with smartass on this one. We'd be better to take our chances in town and rough it to the base."

Landon agreed. Even if they were spotted by anyone and the Flood were informed of their arrival, that still left the Phantom a secret and they could always pull out at a moment's notice. Worst-case scenario was still the same: invade Mombasa in secret with limited ammunition and hope not to get caught.

"Drop us off outside of town, Joel." Sam ordered. "Stay cloaked and close by. We'll call you when we're finished inside."

"Can do."

The Phantom suddenly dipped slightly, swinging hard to the right. Through the front window of the Phantom, Landon got a glimpse of the area they were landing in. He examined the town as carefully as he could while the Phantom circled the small cluster of homes, shops and offices.

The alien dropship suddenly leveled out, and the bottom opened up to reveal a desert-like landscape thirty feet below. "This is as low as we get without waking the neighbors." Miedema said over the intercom. "See you guys in a bit."

"Thanks Joel," Samuel answered. "Zeke, you're first."

"For good reason," the black-armored Spartan finished, putting his helmet on and jumping through the hole in the floor. Blaine followed suit, then Samuel, then Stephanie, and Landon nodded to Miedema one last time before leaping into the darkness below.

* * *

"Total bullshit," Zeke growled, leading the group into the edges of town. "Only 1800 hours, and it's already dark."

"Blame the atmosphere." Landon answered.

"I know why it looks like this." The other Spartan snapped. "That just doesn't make me dislike it any less."

"Less bickering," Samuel interrupted. "Let's not forget how important it is that we're not caught while we're here."

"Why do we have to go into town anyway?"

"We don't." Sam answered. "But the satellites can't always pick up Flood that are inside structures, and on the off-chance that we were spotted coming in, I don't really want to be locked in an ONI facility, surrounded by a million Pure Forms. Do you?"

"Not particularly." Landon said calmly.

"Pass." Stephanie said.

"I wouldn't mind." Blaine stated.

"That doesn't surprise me." Samuel answered. "Regardless, we're doing a quick sweep, just to be safe. I want to know if there's anything living here."

"That's a big "yes" for you, Goliath." Zeke said.

Samuel stopped walking. "How many?"

"Twenty…maybe twenty-five," he paused. "Some really weird scents scattered around too. But we're looking at least a couple-dozen people."

"Not Flood?"

The Spartan shook his head. "No Flood for miles. But keep your guard up anyway."

"Why?" Landon asked. "If it's just people-"

"Because I said so," Zeke growled. "There's something else too."

"Alright, split up." Samuel said, cutting them off. "If there are people here, I want to know where and how many. And make sure that no one sends out any distress calls. If something seems off, call me ASAP. Got it?"

Everyone in the group gave their agreement, and proceeded to split at the edge of town. Samuel didn't change course – he just stepped into the nearest structure: a two-story residential home with old, brick walls and a pair of large windows. Surprisingly, the whole place appeared to be intact.

"Sam."

It was Zeke.

"Yeah?"

"Got light up ahead."

"Where at?"

"Looks like a community office building, like city hall or something. Gravemind's given them their electricity too."

"That means they've seen the broadcast."

"That's my guess. Wonder if the bastard had it translated." He paused. "Orders?"

"Wait outside. Tell the others to meet you there. I'll be there momentarily."

"Sure."

Samuel stepped up the speed of his search, sweeping the home as quickly as possible for anything living. He found plenty of traces of living – used dishes, cups, a set up dinner table with what looked to be only day-old canned food – but no people. When he was satisfied, he rushed out and met the team in the middle of town.

"Tiny building," he said, looking at the structure before them. It was mostly a one-story, stone square with two points that stretched up to a second level.

"At least it's modest." Stephanie said.

"I'll get us in." Blaine said, grabbing the hammer from his armor.

"Woah-woah-woah!" Samuel threw his arm out, grabbing the hammer just below the head. "We'll take the door."

Blaine sighed irritably. "Remind me never to expect to have any fun while you're around."

Samuel led the way around the building to a set of glass double-doors at the front. They were unlocked, and he could see light emanating from a room inside.

"Just take it slow, and quiet." He said, opening the doors silently and stepping inside.

"This is stupid," Zeke muttered.

"I said to be quiet! Now shut up!"

They moved without a word until they were just outside the room that had drawn them to the building. Light crept under the wooden door, and Sam could hear voices on the inside.

"How we gonna do this?" Landon asked.

"Well, we could-"

"We don't know that these are people." Blaine said. "It could be a trap. Gravemind's more than capable."

Samuel sighed. "I was thinking we'd-"

"If they are people, we could scare them half to death by rushing in there."

"Look," he said, "we're just going to-"

"This is ludicrous." Zeke growled. "What's the point of-"

Samuel rolled his eyes and gripped the handle with his right hand. He then twisted it – locked or not – and threw the door open.

"They're back!" A man was shouting, and the pumping of a Shotgun echoed right before-

BANG!

That single blast was the signal for all Hell to break loose. A submachine gun echoed from the back corner of the conference room while at least three pistols were being fired from the other. The Shotgun fired blast after blast from a distance that – really – was entirely ineffective against the Spartans' shields.

"Hey!" Samuel said. "Relax."

The gunfire continued as twin Energy Swords flashed to life and Landon's shields kicked on. Blaine's hammer had been out for some time already.

"Relax." He put his hands up, trying to stop the fight before the rest of the team began to fight back.

Still, they continued firing. Stephanie stepped out of the room, apparently refusing to shoot on the civilians without orders. Blaine and Ezekiel both stepped forward-

"Relax!" Samuel roared and threw his fist out to the side, striking the wall hard enough to shake the entire building. "Everybody calm down now!" He ripped the hammer from Blaine's grip and threw it to the ground.

The gunfire stopped.

"Now," he said, trying to recover his composure. As the adrenaline began to leave his system, he surveyed the group of people. There were twenty-two of them, most of them adult men and women, but a few were in their early to mid-teens as well. "What in the world is going on here?"

"We're sorry." One of the men said, standing up. "We thought you were more of them."

"More of who?" Samuel asked. "The Flood?"

"Not the Flood," Zeke said quickly, taking off his helmet and smelling the air. "I'm telling you, they haven't been around here in ages."

The man shook his head. "Not Flood," he said. "The Brutes."

Zeke nodded. "I knew it."

Samuel did a double-take. "Say again?"

"Brutes?" Landon asked.

"The Brutes," he repeated. "They've been coming into town a couple of times a month for the past three months. They kidnap half-a-dozen of us, give or take, and then they retreat."

"Brutes?" Landon repeated. "Like, honest-to-God Covenant Brutes?"

At this point, a woman in the back of the group stood up. She was in military fatigues, held an Assault Rifle, and her hair was cut short. "Private Romera," she said. "I was stationed here shortly before the Flood attacked. And if these are the Brutes you're talking about…" she stepped over to a closet and opening the door.

Sure enough, the corpse of one of the Covenant's thickest fell from the darkness and onto the floor. Its entire back side was covered in blood.

"They attacked last night." She said. "We lost four, but we killed one."

"Not bad," Stephanie said, trying to sound hopeful.

"Not good," the woman answered. "There are twenty-two of us left. There are at least forty Brutes in there, never mind the rest of the aliens."

"Forty?" Samuel asked disbelievingly. "How can they feed forty Brutes on a couple of people a month?"

"Hell if I know," she answered. "What I do know is that they're getting more desperate. They've been here twice in the last week."

"At least you've got power now." Blaine said, looking around.

"We've had power." She said. "Had backup generators running since the Flood hit. We've had to replace them more than once, and fuel is getting kinda scarce, but it beats sitting around in the dark."

Samuel almost mentioned the recent widespread "gift" of electricity, but quickly decided against it. "Do you know where they are now?"

"They hole up in that old ONI base west of here." She said. "We've sent teams in to try and…dissuade them from coming back, but both times we lost more than we killed."

Before Samuel could answer, Zeke began laughing coldly under his breath, quiet enough to maintain his usual reserve, but still loud enough for everyone else in the room to hear.

"Something funny about that?" the Marine asked, clearly offended.

Samuel could have broken his neck. "Zeke!" He snapped.

"It's not that," he clarified, grinning as his laughter died. "You have any idea how long it's been since I got to put the fear of God in one of those big bastards?" He shook his head. "So long dealing with the Flood…no fear, no anger, no frustration. It's downright boring!"

"Well, I'm glad someone thinks so." Samuel answered harshly.

"No," Zeke said, "seriously. This…" He let out a short laugh. "This is gonna be fun, Sam."

"Don't be so sure." Romera said. "I fought Covenant during the war. These Brutes are different."

"How so?"

"They're faster, stronger. I watched one of them tear into the hardware store down the road with nothing but the armor it was wearing and its bare hands."

"So what?" Zeke asked.

"The hardware store had brick walls on all sides." The Marine added. "I never saw a Brute smash through that in eighteen seconds during the war."

"Great," Landon said, "Brutes on 'roids."

"Would you quit your whining?" Blaine snapped. "This is the first real chance to have some fun that we've had since we got back from the Assault Carrier. I say we take it with a smile."

Zeke nodded, still grinning.

"Though," Blaine admitted, "probably a slightly less sadistic one than what you're wearing right now."

"I think my team needs to have a quick chat," Samuel said. "Excuse us for a minute."

Romera nodded. "Of course."

* * *

"We're gonna help them, right?" Stephanie's tone made the question a statement in itself. The word "no" was no longer an acceptable part of a response.

"We're a little short on time to be taking up random causes," Samuel answered. "But it doesn't look like we'll have much of a choice."

"What's the point?" Landon asked. "When the world goes "boom", their troubles are over anyway…unless you want to take them with us?"

Sam shook his head. "I wish we could. We can barely fit the few people we have on the Phantom, never mind feeding everyone."

"We can't leave them here." Stephanie stated plainly. "We can't just leave them to die."

"She's right," Zeke said enthusiastically. "We have to help these people! They need our-"

"Would you shut up?" Sam asked. "You just want to make sure you get to kill the Brutes. You know it. I know it. Everybody knows it. And you will. Now be quiet."

"Works for me."

"Back to the discussion at hand," Blaine said loudly. "We kill the Brutes, restock our ammunition…then what? You're right: they can't come with us."

"You'd just leave them?" Stephanie asked accusingly. "You'd just leave them here to burn when we evacuate?"

"Oh, come off it." Blaine answered. "We're the ones doing the legwork here. If they wanted off, they should have evacuated when the rest of the planet did. The Flood didn't even hit this area hard – if they wanted off, they could have made it happen."

"How can you-"

"He's right." It was Romera. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the Brutes just set up a perimeter around town." She paused. "And he's correct. We had a chance to leave. We chose to stay here, to guard our homes. We never thought that the UNSC would just give up and abandon Earth to the Flood…but we were wrong."

"We'll figure out an evacuation plan when we get to that point." Samuel stated. "Until then, talking about it is off the table. We have bigger problems to deal with right now." He turned to the Marine. "What's the force look like?"

"At least ten Brutes," she said. "A dozen Grunts, a few Jackals for support. Nothing major for a group of Spartans, right?" There was a hint of a challenge in her voice.

"Grunts too?" Zeke asked with a smile. "It's like my birthday and Christmas, all rolled into one."

"You desperately need to get a grip." Samuel answered. "Alright, here's the plan: Stephanie and Landon are on the inside. Hole up inside the conference room and guard the civilians. Blaine, Zeke and I will go shake the tree and see what falls out."

"I always get stuck on defense." Landon muttered.

"That's because you have shields implanted into your arms." Blaine answered. "And you seriously wonder why you're on 'D'? Come on."

"Okay, let's get started!" Zeke's Energy Swords flashed to life. "We're wasting time. I never thought I'd get to say this again, but let's go strike some fear into those Covie bastards."

* * *

"We need to split 'em up." Samuel said, leading the other two Spartans out of the building. "They're not Flood, but getting surrounded still sucks."

"I'll split them off." Zeke answered, cracking his knuckles.

"How?"

"Gonna go give them something to look at." With that, his cloaking activated and the black-armored soldier was rendered invisible in the darkness. A second later, he was gone.

Samuel shrugged. "Guess we're on our own."

"Yeah," Blaine answered, rolling his eyes, "imagine that."

* * *

Ezekiel was rushing around the house in almost pitch-dark, moving tables, furniture, and anything else that he thought could be used to his advantage. He barricaded every doorway but one – the one nearest the Brutes' perimeter – and threw a bunch of pillows under the comforter in the master bedroom and examined the house until he was certain that he'd memorized each detail that could be of any use.

"Come on, Zeke," Demon said, "you getting ready for a fight or a first date?"

"Is there a difference?" The Spartan asked with a grin. He finished his preparation by walking over to the window on the far side of the house – the one that was in a perfect place for the Brutes to see into. And, to top it all off, an eerie blue light lit up the outside of the window from an ancient, laughably inefficient bug zapper.

"Oh, how far we've come." Demon laughed at the sight of the primitive machine. "Looks like Mombasa got the tech, but the outskirts got the shaft."

Ezekiel ignored him. He stepped right to the edge of the window, so that just the edge of his shadow could be seen from the outside. It took a few minutes, but he finally caught sight of a few of the Covenant troops making their way into town. When he was sure that they could see him, moved quickly and obviously – as if in an absolute panic – and pulled the shades on the window, shrouding the room in total darkness.

Thirty seconds later, the front door caved in and the snarls and growls of the Brutes were echoing throughout the halls.

"You know, you take far too much pleasure in this." Demon said.

Zeke didn't answer. He was waiting, completely still against the wall of the master bedroom, perfectly camouflaged as a pair of the beasts walked right by him. Even in the dark, Ezekiel could see that their armor was completely different from anything he'd seen before. It was light, covering only a few key places on their bodies, like the chest, forearms, ankles, and knees. They wore no helmet, and weren't even carrying any heavy weapons…not that they probably needed them to deal with humans anyway.

Within a few seconds, the Brutes had stalked over to the bed, eying it carefully before grabbing the comforter and jerking it back-

FLICK.

The lights suddenly burst into life, revealing the confused aliens and Ezekiel at the far end of the room, standing against the wall with his arms crossed at his chest.

"Looking for the missus?" He asked. "Sorry to disappoint."

The one on the left roared and lunged forward with a speed that Zeke had never before witnessed from a Brute. He was barely able to dodge to the left in time to avoid the strike, leaving the Covenant soldier to charge straight through the wall and into the kitchen beyond.

"Toro! Toro!" He shouted, laughing under his breath.

The second Brute, however, did not charge him. Instead, this one grabbed a pair of handles from its armor and lifted them into the air, baring its teeth as its eyes narrowed on their target.

"Zeke," Demon said, "I don't like this."

The tops of the two handles suddenly flashed with a glow that was almost exactly like Zeke's Energy Swords. A second later, Ezekiel's mouth was hanging open as he stood there, staring. It was impossible.

"Are those-"

"Plasma blades?" Demon finished. "I believe so."

He was right – they were blades. Both of them were. Blue-white plasma emanated from their tips, lighting up the room and shrouding the Brute's face with a downright scary glow. But there was one thing that was different, one thing that was so…off…

They looked like axes.

The blades weren't swords. They looked like short, one-handed axes.

"Demon," Zeke said, dumbfounded, "I think it's safe to say that these aren't normal Brutes."

"So I gathered," the AI answered.

Before he could speak again, the Brute lunged forward, swinging madly and yet with a precision that belied its brainless appearance. Ezekiel had six blades active in an instant, and was using both swords together with his offensive mounts to hold the beast at bay.

"The Brute's speed and strength have been augmented," Demon stated. "There's something very wrong here."

"Like that I'm using six blades to counter his two?" Zeke growled. Granted, a large part of it was surprise and lack of practice – he needed no real "skill" with the swords to cut into the Flood, just endurance to do it again and again for hours on end.

But against a real foe? One that was armed and apparently at least semi-skilled with a pair of blades?

"My turn!" Zeke put the swords above his head in time to block the Brute as it tried to bring both axes straight down on his head. He held them there for a few seconds that seemed to drag on for eternity, feeling the Brute push harder and harder-

Zeke suddenly moved to the right, deactivating his swords and causing the alien to stumble forward. Before it could recover, the Spartan had spun a full circle and thrust his left arm out, catching the beast in the face with the back of his fist.

"Demon!" the Brute growled as it recoiled and almost fell into the wall. Its face was still turned slightly from the blow, and Ezekiel wasted no time. He ran straight at the monster, jumped into the air and cloaked himself at the peak of his jump.

_Game over,_ he thought, spinning in mid-air as fast as he could and throwing his left leg out-

The back of his foot caught the Brute completely unaware, hitting the monster's cheek and twisting its head hard to the right. The force was more than the beast could bear, and the Ezekiel heard its neck snap like a twig.

Zeke hit the ground and reappeared, standing up and breathing a sigh of relief. That was considerably more of a battle than he had intended. They were Brutes, after all. It should have been a cakewalk.

The hissing of a pair of plasma blades brought him back to reality and reminded him that the other Brute was still alive and well. Ezekiel turned to face the monster, staring at the twin axes that it was holding at chest-level.

He was about to speak when the Brute charged-

And missed. Zeke dodged to the left and watched the beast run by.

"Gonna have to do better than that."

The monster turned around, reared back, and abruptly threw the axes right at the Spartan-

"Shit!" Zeke hit the deck, and as he was falling he watched the twin blades soar just inches from his head. He fell on his back and quickly jumped back up-

The Brute had grabbed one of its comrade's blades and was already swinging at the Spartan. Ezekiel managed to block the strike, but was caught off-guard as the beast lashed out with its free hand, catching him in the chest and throwing him through the bedroom wall and into the far kitchen one with a force that reminded him of when a Hunter had done it to him months ago.

He hit the ground in a heap, shaking his head and wondering what the Hell just happened. It was a Brute, for God's sake! One Brute! Why the Hell was it not only giving him trouble, but making him look like an idiot?

Zeke got his bearings and looked up-

The Covenant soldier was already charging him, and the black-armored Spartan didn't even have time to register the attack before the alien's knee crashed into his chest, slamming him through the wall of the kitchen with the force of a freight train and sending him bouncing onto the town's streets.

"Zeke!" It was Sam.

"Hey, Sam," he managed trying to keep as much of the pain out of his voice as possible. "How goes it?"

"What the Hell happened to you?" Blaine asked.

"These aren't normal Brutes." Zeke answered. "They're souped up something fierce, and they've got plasma blades."

Blaine began laughing hysterically. "You got your ass handed to you…by a Brute? One Brute?"

"Two." Zeke corrected.

Blaine resumed laughing.

"Shut the Hell up! I just wasn't expecting that kind of performance from the Covenant's ugliest. They caught me off-guard, nothing more."

"Seems…to happen to you…a lot!" Blaine was struggling to speak clearly between fits of mocking laughter.

"You know what? You try it. Then come talk to me, tin man."

"Sure." He answered, putting the hammer on his back. "Won't be needing this though – they're only Brutes."

Ezekiel was about to respond when he noticed Samuel facing the way they'd originally come. "You're awful quiet, Sam."

"Stephanie and Landon are back there."

"I'm sure they're f-"

BOOM!

* * *

The wall of the conference room suddenly exploded in bright green light, revealing four angry Brutes and a pair of Hunters to one side. Stephanie could see a couple Grunts and Jackals bringing up the rear, but they were so far down on her threat assessment that she completely ignored them. No, what she was focused on was right in front of her, glowing plain as day.

The Brutes – each of them – were holding a pair of blue-white, plasma-covered axes. They were moving slowly into the edges of the room, spreading out.

People behind her were screaming. She could hear the civilians, panicked, stuffed into the far corner of the room. What choice did they have? The only doorway was being covered by one of the Brutes, and they certainly weren't going to make it by.

"Landon," she said. "Block for them." She motioned to the civilians.

"Screw that," he answered. "You're not taking these guys alone."

"I'll be fine!" She yelled. "Watch them!"

"I'm not-" A green flash suddenly erupted from one of the Hunters, flying right at the civilians. "Holy shit!"

Landon jumped and put his shield up in time to take the blast, which lit up the room in a brilliant green glow. He stayed there, crouched, waiting.

"You tell me if you need a hand, understand me?"

She nodded, taking a step forward, right into the group of Brutes. They had her in a semi-circle, all waiting on a chance to strike.

In her mind, she took note of her weapons, of her options. She had the Maulers, but they were hardly appropriate against four blade-wielding Brutes. The Fuel Rod Gun would work, if she could get a little distance. She also had the miniature flamethrowers mounted to the undersides of her wrists…

"Okay," she said. "Let's go!"

The Brute in front of her and to her right attacked first, swinging the axe in its right hand down-

She grabbed the beast by the wrist and twisted the arm, taking a page from Ezekiel's tactics and slammed her other hand into the now-exposed elbow, shattering alien's joint. Without a pause, she grabbed the loose blade from its hand and cut deep into the monster's back, severing its spinal cord.

Stephanie didn't waste a second. She yanked the blade out of the alien before its corpse had even hit the ground and threw it as hard as she could at the Brute to her to right-

It connected, lodging itself in the alien's chest cavity. With a last pathetic roar, the Brute's eyes glazed over, and it fell.

* * *

"That was the building the civilians were in!" Samuel yelled, running through the small town, back the way they'd come. "They knew where to find them!"

"I'm sure Stephanie and Landon are fine," Blaine maintained. "They're just…oh, great."

Six Brutes and eight Grunts stepped out from the side-streets to intercept the three Spartans. Each of them held a pair of plasma-covered blades, exactly as Zeke had said.

"What kind of team is this?" Zeke asked. "I mean, what kind of assault team has no ranged weaponry and goes in like a Zealot-class Elite squad?"

"Couldn't tell ya," Blaine answered. "But I sure as Hell know how they're goin' out."

"Zeke," Samuel said, "go to the west side. Make sure none of these aliens makes it back to the Foxhole. I don't want a welcome service when we go to finish the job."

"Sam!" he protested. "This is bullshit!"

"Duly noted," he answered. "Now go."

Ezekiel let out a low growl. "Fine," he answered, turning away.

"And Zeke!"

"What?"

"Throw me a pistol."

The other Spartan obliged without a word, then disappeared into the darkness.

"What do you want a pistol for?" Blaine asked.

"You know, light weapons aren't really useless if you actually know how to use them." Samuel answered. "Now…I just need…"

To his left, he saw what he was looking for: a Grunt wielding a Plasma Pistol and moving slightly in front of his group.

"Blaine, keep them busy for a second."

"Be quick," he answered, "or there won't be any left for your pistol-wielding pansy-ass."

Samuel rolled his eyes and turned away. He waited for Blaine to make his move-

"Alright, you bunch of freaks, let's see what you've got!" Samuel heard the Gravity Hammer slam into a building.

_Bingo._ He took off a dead-sprint for the Grunt and kicked it as hard as he could, sending the relatively-small alien crashing into the wall of the nearest structure. Before it could move, Samuel had already grabbed it by the methane tank, lifted it up, and put one shot into its face at point-blank range.

Then he picked up the Plasma Pistol.

"Got one coming up behind you," Gael's voice echoed inside his head.

"Now I know how Zeke feels when Demon steals his thunder," Samuel joked, not turning around. He just held down the trigger and waited to hear the footsteps behind him.

"Demon!" That was his cue.

Samuel turned and dodged incoming swing, then let he overcharged plasma bolt fly right into the Brute's face, stunning it and causing its armor to drop from its body. Samuel calmly put the M6G to its forehead and pulled the trigger.

The Brute dropped to the ground, lifeless.

"Resourceful," Gael said, "I like it."

"Uh huh," Samuel answered, overcharging the weapon again as he looked for a new target.

Blaine had already dispatched of one – only its legs were showing; the rest of it was buried in the brick wall of a two-story home. He was currently engaged with the other two, who were quickly gaining the upper hand on him.

Which was to be expected, since his hammer was sitting comfortably on his back.

"Blaine! Stop trying to outdo Zeke and arm yourself!"

The white-armored soldier did so, jumping back and bringing the hammer to bear. "My turn!" He shouted. "Now watch me smack that ugly grin right off your face!"

And then, in an instant, he did. The Brute to his right lashed out and missed, and Blaine swung the hammer hard, hitting the beast right in the side of the head. The altered gravity twisted the creature's neck in a sickening fashion and – in what seemed like slow motion – sent it flying through the air, right into its ally. The now-lifeless Brute and the living one rolled along the ground, until they finally stopped less than five feet from Samuel.

"Hey!"

The Brute turned to look-

BANG!

And it dropped.

"I swear," Samuel said, "I never get to have any fun. I exist only to clean up your messes."

"But you're damn good at it!" Blaine offered.

* * *

"Go! Go! Get out!" Landon ushered the last of the civilians out of the conference room, pushing them past the Brute corpses and through the door. "Take cover in one of the other rooms! We'll finish here!"

Though, what he really meant was that Stephanie would finish. After all, every ounce of death and pain littering the area was hers. She had dispatched the first two Brutes with relative ease, then used her flamethrowers to keep the other two at arm's-length. When they were trying to figure out how to deal with her, she brought out the Fuel Rod Gun and all but evaporated one of the bastards. The other she'd dealt with by pulling out the Brute Maulers and…well, mauling it.

Now she'd set her sights on bigger targets: the Hunters that had been firing at Landon for the past four minutes non-stop. In reality, the creatures – for some reason – were aiming at the civilians, but since Landon was blocking for them…

Stephanie was scaring him now. She had charged right past a group of Grunts, who had rightly gotten the Hell out of her way when she came running. Now she was squaring off with a pair of Hunters…Hunters! They might as well have been Juggernauts. And at least Juggernauts didn't have Fuel Rod Cannons!

When she'd dodged her way to close-quarters with them, Stephanie raised her arms and used the miniature flamethrowers to spray the monsters with burning pyrosene. The Hunter on the left took the majority of the attack, and while the alien was standing there, writhing, she ran around behind it-

"Damn, Steph…" Landon was shocked. Stephanie, upon getting behind the creature, found a hole in its armor and thrust her hand up and into the collection of worms that made up its body. She wrapped her fingers around the largest handful possible, and ripped them straight from its armored body.

And, just like that, the Covenant tank fell forward, dead.

Stephanie waited too long though, because the second Hunter suddenly went into a rage. Upon seeing its "brother" fall, it unleashed a devastating close-range Fuel Rod blast that all but consumed the female Spartan, sending her spiraling across the dirt.

"Steph!" Landon was on a dead-run in no time. A Grunt stepped into his way, armed with a Needler-

He gripped the alien by the shoulders, lifted it up, and threw it to the side as it screamed in fright.

"I'm fine!" she shouted, getting up on her hands and knees.

Landon was still running when the Hunter charged her, lifting its giant shield up over its head, ready to crush the Spartan beneath it. And he knew he wouldn't make it in time.

"Stephanie! Look out!"

She looked up and saw the attack coming, barely having enough time to put her hands up and catch the giant shield against her palms. Even at a distance, Landon saw her elbows nearly buckle against the blow.

And then, slowly…painfully…she stood up, still holding the shield in her palms, above her head. First she was on one knee, then kneeling, lifting constantly until, finally, she was standing almost perfectly straight, with the alien's arm being held above her head.

* * *

"Now what?" Stephanie asked the monster, looking right at its helmeted "face" and holding the shield above her. "What are you gonna do?"

As if in response, the Hunter's Assault Cannon began to glow green at the end, and Stephanie could hear a soft hum coming from the inner workings.

_That's right,_ she thought, _try me._

She waited, counting the seconds in her head. In the past six minutes, the Hunters had fired more than a dozen times, and she had made sure to count to herself exactly how long the cannons took to charge-

The weapon reached its peak and – in less than a full second – Stephanie jumped from under the shield and wrapped her left arm around the cannon before pushing forward with all her might, twisting the massive weapon until it was pointed right at the Hunter's face.

And it fired.

* * *

"Five Covies," Demon said. "They're already close to the edge of the rifle's effective range."

"Must have left on the north side," Zeke muttered, staring through the night-vision of the Sniper Rifle. There were two Brutes, two Grunts, and a Jackal, all fleeing the area, going back to base. "I can hit 'em."

"You only get four shots." The AI stated. "They're traveling at a fast pace – twelve more seconds, and they'll be out of range."

"Then I best shoot now."

Zeke held his breath, centering his reticule on the only double-kill available to him: a Brute and a Grunt.

CRACK!

They dropped. The rest scattered.

"Hurry," despite the plea, Demon's voice was completely level, calm.

CRACK!

The Jackal hit the dirt.

CRACK!

The last Grunt followed suit.

"One more." Demon said.

"Alien or bullet?" Zeke snapped. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, centering the crosshair on the bottom of the Brute's skull-

CRACK!

It stumbled, but kept going, lumbering forward.

"No way!" Zeke growled. "I hit him!"

"Not a kill-shot," the AI answered.

"Bullshit!" The Spartan said. "I'm telling you, that was solid."

"That Brute disagrees." Demon said. "It was close though-"

Out of nowhere, the Brute stumbled once more, and fell face-first into the ground, where it stayed, unmoving.

"Ha!" Zeke laughed. "Told you I hit him. Big bastard just took a few seconds to feel it."

"Yeah yeah," the AI answered sarcastically, "we're all very impressed."

* * *

"So…that was fun." Landon said, his tone dry. The Spartans were in another conference room, debating on a new plan. "Never thought I'd hear these words come out of my mouth, but can we go fight the Flood now?"

"Soon enough," Samuel answered. "Right now we have to deal with the Covenant troops that are still left over."

"We could just send Stephanie in," Blaine said. "She really put it to 'em."

The female Spartan smiled slightly. "I don't know," she said. "I don't know what happened. I just lost it."

"Saw that," Landon said.

"Too bad Zeke couldn't handle them that easily, eh buddy?" Blaine turned to face the smaller Spartan, who was standing with his back to the wall, like usual.

"Bite me."

"Ah, don't worry about it. It's not like you were the only one of us to get his ass kicked…oh wait."

"You want me to come over there?"

"Hey!" Blaine said defensively, "you come over here, and I'll sick Stephanie on you."

"Can it." Samuel ordered. He shook his head. "Man, we find one group of Covenant and it's back to the training days, all over again."

"Fine, fine," Blaine said. "You're right. What's the play?"

"Well, Zeke took out the only ones that attempted to flee, so we should have the element of surprise."

"Only if we attack soon," Zeke added. "If we wait too long, they're gonna know something went wrong."

"Yeah," Samuel said, "I know. We leave in fifteen…all of us. We'll find the base, deal with the outer defenses, and then sweep the place. I've already contacted to Joel to let him know we'll need a bit more time."

"What about the people here?" Stephanie asked.

"I spoke to Romera. There's a basement they can barricade themselves in and hold out for a few hours if things get rough. Chances are, with us invading the base, they won't be in a big hurry to split their numbers anyway."

"That's true."

"Okay," he said, "that's the basic layout. Get your stuff. We're outta here."

* * *

**Author's Notes: So yeah. That's Chapter 15. The whole thing is ending up a little longer than anticipated, but no big deal. It's as long as it has to be...to be right. :)**

**Thanks for reading, everyone. Hope it was enjoyed.**

**- Raptor**


	17. Chapter 16: The Foxhole

**ATTENTION: I did wish to have the second half of the chapter up tonight, but FanFiction, since I got home from work at 9:00, has been doing the same thing it was doing last Sunday and not allowing me to upload content to the site. It could be my internet connection, but I have successfully uploaded to email and Facebook to check - I believe it is entirely FanFiction related, or it may be yet another Java issue between my computer and the site.**

**The chapter is finished. I will try again in the late morning or early afternoon. If I cannot, it will wait until Thursday evening because I have an early eight-hour shift and will not be up late tonight (Wednesday). I apologize for the delay. This will NOT be a long one.**

**Lastly, in response to a great idea from a Reviewer, I will be setting up a Twitter account specifically for Zulu to keep everyone informed who wishes to check it. The link will be posted and will also be on my profile page. Simply go to the page (you do not have to "follow" me on Twitter if you don't want to) to see the latest.**

**Thank you all for your patience and understanding.**

* * *

**Author's Notes: **It's obscenely late, and I don't have time to get a full set of notes out before I call it a night, but I just want to clear up a couple of things:

1. I am not dead. Zulu, in turn, is not dead. Between work, school, family, and friends, my time is typically very crammed. This year has been the worst yet as far as my free time is concerned, but I am attempting to get back into the swing of things as best I can.

2. I do apologize for the hiatus, but the apology is all I can give any of you. I've promised that I will finish this story, but I cannot promise a time-frame. I want it done. It's actually coming along nicely as far as content goes, though I dare say I should be finished with it by now.

3. I have the second piece of this chapter finished and all but the last 1,000 words have been edited (as they were just redone...again). It will be up tomorrow night or early Wednesday morning, depending on your timezone and my chosen bedtime.

4. I promised a few of you that this would be up the night of the 19th, my birthday, but between my internet and FanFiction giving me fits, it did not happen. For that I am sorry.

5. Review responses WILL happen, though they will be short as I'm sure most of you who reviewed (and are still here) can't even remember what you said or asked...and that's entirely understandable and can be blamed on me entirely.

6. I recommend rereading a chapter or two prior to this one, unless you have a fantastic memory.

7. I didn't really have a #7, but ending with six points just seemed asinine.

I hope that my work is still of at least *tolerable* quality, as it typically suffers after a long hiatus. I am working to make sure that it's decent and up to snuff, but it unfortunately is a devastating spiral: the longer I go without writing, the worse I feel about my work. The worse I feel about the work, the less I want to write. And so it continues...

Back to Zulu Company! I hope you enjoy what's several months overdue and I hope to still have at least a few readers when this hits site. :)

Good night all. I. Am. Exhausted.

- Raptor

* * *

**Chapter 16:**

– **The Foxhole –**

**2100 Hours - July 19, 2553**

**"The Foxhole" - Tanzania, Africa**

"Is that a base or a bunker?" Landon asked, ducking his head back down. He and the others were hiding behind a rocky outcrop, looking at the rather unimpressive titanium structure that was the Foxhole. It was small – not even two full stories high – and built into the bottom of a cliff, surrounded by a barren landscape. The walls were solid titanium, and a single massive doorway stood in the middle.

"Most of it is underground," Samuel answered. "Probably goes down four or more levels. We'll have to do this quickly; if the Flood find out we're down there, they'll pin us in."

"Wouldn't it be easier just to blast this whole miserable base?" Zeke asked. "Why even bother with the Brutes?"

"What's the matter?" Blaine asked mockingly, "scared you'll get your ass kicked again?"

"Not at all," the other Spartan answered. "Just not sure why we're wasting our time."

"We need ammunition." Samuel answered plainly. "There's ammo in the base. The Brutes are standing in the way. Any questions?"

"None, boss."

"Good." Samuel paused for several seconds before speaking again. "There are Jackals on top the cliff." He pointed loosely to the cliff's edge. "Plus the four Brutes at the bottom…" He motioned to the doorway, being watched by a handful of Brute Majors and a Captain. Landon switched his HUD to the infrared setting, watching them stalk around in the darkness.

"How you want to go about it?"

Samuel turned to Zeke. "Care to redeem your shoddy performance from earlier?"

"Glad to," the smaller Spartan answered, turning away from Sam, toward the base.

"Wait. Why does Zeke get all the fun?"

"Cloaking means he won't alert the Jackals, and we don't have the time to be fair and make sure everyone gets a turn."

"Ah, Hell-"

"We need four Brutes and three Jackals dead. Neither can be alerted while the others are dying and we're on a schedule." He paused. "Zeke: give me your rifle."

Ezekiel turned like he was going to protest, but appeared to stop himself, handing the rifle over without a word.

"Landon, you've got sniping duty."

The blue-armored Spartan barely had time to respond before the rifle was tossed into his hands. "Well-"

Zeke interrupted him. "Sam, I gave you my rifle! Not him."

"And I promise he's not gonna break it. Now quit your whining and go deal with the Brutes."

Ezekiel let out a low growl that Landon was sure was intended just for him, but he said nothing else.

"Go, Zeke."

The black-armored soldier obliged, cloaking himself and sprinting from behind their cover, straight for the Brutes.

"You shoot first." Samuel said, bringing his Battle Rifle up and taking aim at the top of the cliff.

Landon almost protested his forced use of the rifle, but decided against it. Zeke was the sniper. Jason had a knack for it too. But neither of them was available, so his reluctant usage would have to suffice. And, in all fairness, it wasn't that he couldn't snipe; he just didn't like to. It was a style of fighting he was uncomfortable with and he lacked the mindset for patient, down-to-the-millimeter shots-

"Ready?"

Sam's voice echoed in his head and brought him back to the current situation. Zeke was poised for attack behind one of the Brutes. His cloaking systems had deactivated, but he was still all but totally invisible, hidden in the darkness.

Landon centered the sights on one of the Jackals – the one furthest to the right – and slowly exhaled. "Take 'em."

CRACK!

The Jackal stumbled and fell, purple blood shooting from the fresh hole in its neck. Landon shifted the rifle left and watched as the second Jackal fell forward – Samuel had already hit it. He quickly took aim at the third alien and opened fire.

CRACK!

The Covenant sniper was already aware and moved to the side, effectively dodging the shot by complete accident. Landon swore under his breath.

CRACK!

This time the shot was flawless. The side of the alien's head exploded and it fell out of view.

"Three Jackals down." Landon said as Samuel ran to the front of the base. "Not too-"

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" Ezekiel was shouting even as he closed the distance between him and Landon, passing Samuel on the way. "How many Jackals were there?"

"Three…"

"And how many did you kill?" He snatched the rifle and began to reload the magazine.

"Two." Landon saw where this was going. He worked to suppress a laugh. It was obvious that killing the Brutes hadn't helped Zeke's insecurity; he was still pissed at having been so thoroughly out-classed earlier.

"And I'm reloading one…two…three bullets!" Ezekiel growled lowly. "If you can't shoot the damn thing, then give it to someone who can."

"Would you get your head out of your ass?" Blaine asked. "It's one damn shot. If you need every single one before we get a refill on ammo, you're the one with the problem."

"I'm a sniper." Zeke answered. "Ever heard the phrase "every shot counts"? No? Well it does." He paused, glancing at Landon. "At least, it does when a competent soldier is shooting."

The blue-armored Spartan rolled his eyes.

"Keep rolling your eyes," Ezekiel snarled. "I'll roll your head across the landscape like a Frag Grenade."

"Impressed as I am that you knew I was doing that," Landon answered, "I don't think you'll get the opportunity." He motioned to Samuel, who had just removed his neuro-chip from the front of the doorway.

"Let's go, ladies!" The brown-armored Spartan shouted. "Whatever argument you're having, I'm declaring Stephanie the winner and she now has every right to kill anyone who isn't over here in the next eight seconds!"

Stephanie immediately turned to the group. "You heard him," she said. "Let's go before I have to break one of you."

* * *

Samuel led the way into the base, holding his Shotgun at the ready and scanning the lobby for anything breathing. The room was a plain, rectangular one. There were two doors – one on either side – and an elevator at the far end. A single bright, fluorescent light hung above their heads.

"How do you wanna do this?" Blaine asked.

Samuel shrugged. "We'll split up." He said. "Gael says that this floor is pretty simply laid out: each door leads to a hall with two separate rooms for visitors. Nothing special."

"So…it's just empty?"

"They checked security here. No one goes to the lower levels without being approved. That's why there's nothing up here."

"Except Brutes," Zeke said lowly. "At least four."

Samuel nodded. "As I said, we'll split up. Steph and I will go left and clear the rooms. Zeke: you and Landon go right."

"Ah, come on, Sam!" Blaine started.

"You've got elevator duty." Samuel finished.

"Bullshit!"

"I don't want any Brutes coming from below to find us, and I don't want any up here running to the basement to give them a heads-up. Make it happen."

Blaine said nothing.

"Just this time," Samuel added. "We'll do it on the next floor too, and I'll make Zeke do it instead."

"Damn right," Blaine growled.

"The Hell-" Zeke protested.

"This isn't a democracy. Now go."

Ezekiel muttered something foul but left through the door on the right with Landon close behind him. Blaine positioned himself next to the elevator, with his back to the wall.

"Try to stay awake, okay?" Stephanie asked lightly.

"Don't you start with me." He answered, earning a full-fledged laugh from the female Spartan.

"Come on, Steph." Samuel said, opening the other door.

* * *

"How many of the Brutes do you think we'll see?" Landon asked. "You said at least four, right?"

Ezekiel rolled his eyes. "There are at least four…on this side. I wasn't about to tell Sam that I smelled seven or eight of them. He'd have never split us up and we'd take ages to get off this damn floor."

"Are you crazy? What if he and Stephanie-"

"Relax, would you?" Zeke asked, turning around. "I got it." He turned away and contacted Samuel. "Hey," he said, "can you hear me?"

"What is it, Zeke?"

"Got nothing on this side. Expect heavy resistance over there."

Samuel took a moment to respond. "Understood. Be careful and meet us back in the middle after you've checked the hall."

Zeke cringed. _Be careful?_ He knew.

It was Samuel. Of course he knew.

"Will do, Sam. Watch your back."

"You too."

The connection was cut, and Ezekiel walked quickly to the end of the hall. There were two large, wooden doors, one on each side. He cautiously opened the right-hand door and peaked inside.

"What do you see?"

Zeke shook his head. "Nothing," he answered, examining every detail of the room. It was simple – small, rectangular, with a sofa against the far wall and two long tables on either side. There was a doorway to the right that he imagined led to a bathroom or closet. It wasn't much, but the organization of the floor told him it was likely that the other room would be identical to this one, and knowing the layout in advance would cut down on time he'd need to think up a strategy.

"So our friends are next door then," Landon stated calmly.

Ezekiel nodded, leaving the room and closing the door quietly. He put his hand on the knob to the opposite room, taking a deep breath.

"Guess we get to deal with them all at once then." Landon said. "How do you-"

Zeke through the door open and stepped into the room, immediately spotting the three Brutes standing near the sofa on the far side. He also noticed that the doorway to the left was only just barely cracked open.

"Evening," he said with a smile. Then he lowered his voice. "Demon, get me some background noise."

"Preference?" the AI questioned, as if asking for music to be played while he was fighting Brutes on steroids was the most normal thing in the world.

"Angry. Arrogant. Surprise me."

"I'll take the one on the right." Landon said, stepping up beside him. "We'll kill two and then deal with the middle?"

Zeke scoffed. "Just stay out of my way." He growled.

"Oh, and I'm supposed to just stand here then? That sounds about right. How about-"

"How 'bout you kill the one sneaking out of the bathroom to stab us in the back."

He watched Landon turn to face the Brute, which had already grabbed its twin blades and was holding them at the ready. The others must have been banking on a surprise attack as well, because the Spartans' discovery of their ally prompted them to draw their weapons as well.

Seconds later, Zeke was faced with six separate, plasma-coated blades like the ones he'd seen earlier. But this time was different. He wasn't going to underestimate them again. That was what had gotten his ass handed to him last time.

"Here you go," Demon said finally. "This should suit your mood nicely."

The speakers in his helmet suddenly activated and he heard low notes hitting his ears. He recognized the beat. Demon was right – this suited him perfectly.

"Turn it up."

The music was instantly louder, and he was sure that Landon and the Brutes could hear it emanating from his helmet. That also meant that they had no way to break his train of thought.

Perfect.

_Define your meaning of war…to me it's what we do when we're bored._

Ezekiel grinned widely, stepping right up the trio of towering aliens. Their bodies were massive for Brutes, and the Spartan could see the veins in their arms bulging right through their thin layer of fur. These beasts were seriously messed up – of that there was no doubt.

_Because I'm hyped up, outta control…if it's a fight, I'm ready to go. I wouldn't put my money on the other guy-"_

"If you know what I know that I know," he finished the line and crouched into a fighting stance right as the chorus was about to start.

The Brute to his left lashed out first, and the others weren't far behind. It raised its right arm and brought the blade down hard-

Ezekiel twisted his right arm and caught the Brute at the wrist, twisting the limb before striking with his left hand and breaking it at the elbow. The alien howled as the Spartan turned on his heel and jammed his free foot into the Brute's knee, shattering it as well.

He ducked low to avoid what he was sure was a half-assed swipe from another alien, then grabbed the blade from the broken arm of the first and threw it backwards, directly into the abdomen of the other Covenant soldier.

Zeke didn't even turn – he just threw his left leg out behind him and kicked the axe deeper into the alien's stomach, severing even more of the monster's tissues and also knocking it flat on its alien ass.

The other Brute seemed to be the slightest bit intimidated by the attack, and Ezekiel used the moment of peace to twist the arm of the first Brute around, behind its back, before using his free hand to bend the alien backwards-

He let go of the limb and put both hands on the alien's head, waiting only a second before jerking it to the side and feeling the large neck snap in his grasp. The Covenant soldier fell to the ground in a heap.

Grinning widely, Ezekiel turned to the last Brute and activated all six of his mounted blades, essentially showing the most dangerous threat display that he could. All the while, the song continued to play in his helmet.

_…your face, and your face…on the floor. It'll be a long time comin', but you got the message now…_

The Spartan put his arms down, opening his palms to the Brute. "Don't know what you're waiting for, you overgrown chimp. Face it – one of us is going down."

The Brute roared and leapt forward, slicing with both blades at Ezekiel's head and neck. The alien was fast – that he had to admit – but it was nothing that the Spartan couldn't deal with. His suspicions had been right: the Brutes from the village hadn't been "out of his league"; he had just been an absolute moron in dealing with them, allowing them to catch him off guard. Once the first had put him on the back foot, his nerves had been rattled and he'd been screwed for the rest of the fight.

Not this time.

He blocked strike after strike, using only his elbow-mounted blades and occasionally the ones on his knees if the need arose. All the while, the Brute was tiring, swinging slower and slower until-

Zeke suddenly jumped to the left, leaving the Brute's attack swinging at empty air. Before the beast could recover, he slammed his foot into the alien's right knee, breaking it just as he had the one from earlier. As the beast began to howl, he shifted his footing and slammed his other boot down on the monster's left foot hard enough to break bones. In an instant, the Brute was on the floor, roaring in agony and rage.

"Have you got the message now?" The Spartan asked in a low tone, still in sync with the beat of the song. "'Cause I was never goin'…yeah, you're the one that's goin' down!" With the last word, he raised his leg up and sent his boot crashing down on the alien's skull.

"Feel better?" Demon asked.

Zeke grinned wickedly, ignoring the corny feeling he got from quoting music to the dying alien. Whether or not he should be embarrassed was irrelevant – all that mattered was that his appetite for payback had been dealt with.

"Much." He turned around to see the fourth Brute dead on the floor and Landon standing against the far wall with his helmet off, staring wide-eyed. "Can I help you?" He asked bitterly.

The other Spartan just shook his head, still sporting a confused, disturbed look on his face. "You need help…or a hobby. Definitely at least a hobby." And he left the room.

* * *

"First floor is clear, Sam." Landon said as he and Ezekiel entered the main lobby. "We're ready for the sublevels if you are."

Samuel nodded. He and Stephanie had cleared their side with minimal effort. For all of Zeke's warnings, there had only been three Brutes in total, and they were easily dispatched. Honestly, it was the lower levels, with more aliens armed with additional weapons that had him worried.

"From what Gael's found, there are three levels to this place." He said. "Level two is mostly tech and storage. We'll clear it before moving down."

"Zeke's on elevator duty?" Blaine asked.

Samuel nodded. "Then we hit the third level. The armory is there. We'll stock up and see if whoever's in charge is down there."

"Why?" Landon asked. "I thought we just needed ammo?"

"So did I," Sam admitted. "But these Brutes worry me. They took over this place for a reason, and the archives indicate that they hit it quickly with a Covenant Frigate and then almost immediately departed."

"Why?"

Samuel shrugged. "That's what I want to find out before we leave here. Now let's go."

With that, he led the way into the cramped elevator and slid his neuro-chip into the slot beside the keypad. A few seconds later, the doors slid shut and the Spartans descended.

"Sam, are you sure you want me on elevator duty?" Zeke asked. "I mean, I'm better-suited to-"

"To doing as I tell you," Samuel finished as the elevator doors opened. "Now do it."

The Spartan cursed under his breath, but offered no more arguments.

Samuel glanced around as he stepped out of the elevator. The room was identical to the one on the floor above it: there were two hallways – one on each side – and the elevator that the Spartans had just come out of. The only difference was the lack of a door opposite the elevator to take the Spartans outside.

"Blaine, take Landon and go left."

"On it." The white-armored Spartan grabbed the hammer off his back and stalked toward the door. He turned around. "We'll see you in five."

"Just don't leave any." Samuel answered.

"My specialty," Blaine responded, opening the door and leaving the lobby. Landon followed quickly, closing the door behind him.

"Ready, Steph?"

"Let's do it." She answered unenthusiastically. "I want out of this place as fast as possible."

"No argument from me," Sam answered.

"Have fun, you two!" Zeke said loudly. "Tell the monkeys I said hi."

Samuel shook his head, ignoring him. It was going to be a long trip yet.

* * *

"So…how was elevator duty?"

Blaine scowled. "Boring as shit," he answered, moving quickly down the hall. While the lobby had mirrored the one on the first floor, the hallway was slightly different from what Samuel had described: there were twenty small rooms on each side, numerically labeled, most of which had the doors partially open. Inside, numerous open computer terminals sat, idle. There were bloodstains on the floors and walls, and remains that Blaine could only assume were human littered the floors.

Finally, they reached the end of the hall. All but three doors had been open and Blaine had swept the rooms for life. He could hear movement behind one of the closed doors, labeled "213", but the other two, "208" and "219", were silent.

As he contemplated his next move, the door to room 213 opened up and a single Brute Minor emerged, turning hard toward the lobby, completely missing the Spartans. It shut the small, wooden door behind it and stalked slowly down the hall.

Blaine wasted no time. He immediately started toward the Brute-

It seemed to sense him, because it turned around in a flash, reaching its arms up and behind its head to grab the axes on its back-

The white-armored soldier covered the distance in a split-second, reaching up and grabbing the Brute by the underside of its bent elbows and slamming its back into the wall.

"Demon!"

The word came out more as an agonizing yelp than a full-fledged roar, and Blaine heard the monster's wrists and hands being crushed against the wall behind it. Knowing it wouldn't be in a hurry to fight back, he let go of the elbows, reared back, and threw the hardest punch he could, right into the alien's face.

Its shields gave out first, then its weakened Power Armor…and finally its skull suddenly caved in before the Spartan's augmented fist. Blaine pulled back, allowing the body to fall to the ground in a heap.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that they know we're here." Landon said, clearly amused.

Blaine could hear the rest of the aliens in room 213 getting up and moving toward the hallway. He pointed to one of the other doors. "Take 219." He told Landon. "I'll take this one." The Spartan carefully opened the other door that had a chance of being empty-

"Demon!"

"Shit." He growled, stepping inside and closing the door behind him when he heard the aliens in the room down the hall begin to move even more. "So much for that."

"Kill it!"

There were two Brute Minors, a Captain, and a handful of Grunts in the room, most of them unarmed except for the obligatory axes that these particular Brutes seemed addicted to carrying.

Unfortunately, one of the Grunts was armed as well, and the tiny alien grabbed a Fuel Rod Gun from behind a nearby table and opened fire. A burning green ball of plasma streaked through the air-

"Blaine?" Landon's voice was suddenly in his helmet as the other Spartan opened the door right behind him, poking his head in from the hallway.

"Landon!" Blaine shouted as he jumped out of the way of the incoming plasma.

"Shit!" Landon pulled back, into the hall, slamming the door shut just in time to take the hit from the hissing plasma. The blast detonated behind Blaine, and he felt the overpressure on his shields as the haze of super-heated energy spread around him. When the door opened again, Landon carefully looked inside. "Safe?"

"Not quite." Blaine answered as the Brute Minors moved to the sides and the Fuel Rod-firing Grunt quickly cowered behind the Captain. Apparently dissatisfied with the result of its last attack, it threw its weapon down and, with the rest of its kind, took cover behind a table in the back of the room. "We'll have company from the other room, I'm sure."

"Already took care of it." Landon answered, holding up a pair of the plasma-coated axes. "Thought I'd give these things a shot."

"And?"

The other Spartan shrugged. "I now see how Zeke makes it look so easy. I mean, I thought it would take skill and stuff, but it really doesn't." He paused. "Watch!"

Landon reared back with one of the axes and threw it hard toward the Brute that had moved farthest to the right-

The butt of the weapon hit the alien in the chest, then fell to the ground. The Brute growled lowly.

"Well, shit." Landon muttered.

"Don't quit your day job." Blaine answered, bringing up the Gravity Hammer.

"Well, at least the others are dead."

"I've got these," Blaine said, swinging the hammer casually. "You've had your fun."

"Ah, come on!" The other Spartan responded. "Don't go all 'Zeke' on me!"

Blaine turned away from the Brutes to face him. "Compare me to him again," he said, "and I will crush you. No joke."

Landon backed down. "Have fun." He offered.

The white-armored Spartan only scoffed. "Fun" would dictate the fight lasting more than thirty seconds…which this one would not.

"Come on. I haven't got all day."

The Brute on the left inched forward, and Blaine saw his chance. He swung the hammer in front of him, aiming at the one directly in his sights.

The alien almost fell over itself jumping out of the way, but Blaine didn't stop. He just kept swinging to the left-

The second Brute was not so lucky. It had seen its "opening" and had taken another step forward in an attempt to catch Blaine off-guard. Unfortunately, it had only closed enough distance to take a direct hit to the face from the Gravity Hammer.

BOOM!

The Brute was lifted up, off the ground, and sent crashing into the far wall, only a few feet from where Landon was standing.

"Dude!" he shouted. "What the Hell?"

Blaine didn't answer. He could feel the hard footsteps of the third Brute running up behind him, closing the distance with its twin axes-

The Spartan threw the handle of the hammer straight behind him, catching the alien in the stomach. As it bent over, recoiling from the strike, he lifted the handle up – hard – hitting it in the chin and lifting its head up, toward the ceiling.

Now he heard the Brute Captain (having recovered from its near-death experience with the hammer) coming from his left, and he was in the perfect position to finish this little quarrel.

With the head of the hammer still only a foot from the ground, Blaine shouted "four!"and swung it straight up like a golf club, catching the slightly hunched-over Brute in the abdomen and sending it soaring through the air.

But he didn't stop there – Blaine twisted his whole body to the left and finished the motion by bringing the hammer right back down…

Directly onto the skull of the Brute Captain.

The Brute's crashed straight down into the floor so hard that it permanently indented the material. Its skull had caved in completely, part of the way into its neck, and Blaine looked around at the now-deceased aliens. He nodded, satisfied.

"Let's go find Sam," he said.

* * *

"Check that one." Samuel said, motioning to the door that read "231". He and Stephanie had swept the entire hall except for that room and one other, killing a trio of Brutes in complete silence so as not to alert any of the others that were likely nearby.

"Got it," she answered, cracking the door open and looking inside. "Two in here with their backs to me."

"Want help?"

"Go ahead and check the other. I got this."

Samuel nodded. She'd be fine. He turned to the last room they hadn't checked and cracked the door-

_Fantastic,_ he thought.

There were five of them. None were facing the door, but three were already standing. The others were crouched against one of the walls, half-asleep. Samuel took a quick mental count of his inventory. He had only one of his Shotguns; Landon had the other. His Spartan Laser still had battery power left, but he preferred to save it for an emergency. He still had two Frag Grenades and a single Plasma Grenade left over…

"You can take 'em." Gael's voice echoed in his head.

Samuel shook his head. He could take them, but it would be safer and easier to wait on Stephanie. That was what he should do…

"Oh, come on," Gael continued.

The giant Spartan sighed. "You're a terrible influence. You know that?"

"So I've been told." The AI paused. "Demon's worse."

He shook his head again. He sure hoped not. It was hard to blame all of Ezekiel's actions on the black-armored Spartan with that knowledge that had the literal example of the devil on his shoulder.

Against his better judgment, Samuel caved and formulated a plan of action in his head. He normally wasn't predisposed to the others' notions of "having fun" during a mission, taking on odds that were all but suicidal, but as a Spartan it wasn't always avoidable. He was as eager for a challenge as the next soldier, and now he'd been given one.

"Here we go," he said under his breath, grabbing the two Fragmentation Grenades from his armor.

He threw the door open and tossed both Grenades at one of the standing Brutes in the center of the room. Before the aliens could realize what was going on, he primed the Plasma Grenade as well and sent it flying at another of the Brutes, sticking the alien in the chest.

_One down,_ he thought, knowing that the Brute Major he'd stuck with the grenade was as good as dead.

The two Frag Grenades detonated, sending smoke and shrapnel into the air. As the target Brute reached for its axes, Samuel closed the distance.

It swung with one hand as the Spartan reached striking distance, but Sam was ready. He grabbed the Brute's arm in his giant hand and angled his body to the side of the alien, locking its limb in place before ramming his elbow into its abdomen.

"De-" The alien started, but began coughing and growling as Samuel's elbow dented its power armor three separate times.

BOOM!

The Plasma Grenade's three-second fuse had finally worn down, and the Brute at one side of the room was suddenly consumed in a burning blue haze.

"What'd you say?" Samuel asked the Brute he was still dealing with, turning himself toward the beast and rearing back with his free hand. He punched the monster in the face as hard as he could, causing the alien to stumble back-

Without missing a beat, Sam hit him again, this time in the gut. The alien doubled over, and Samuel finished the job, grabbing the back of the monster's head and pulling it down while simultaneously bringing his knee up to meet it. The result was instant death and a permanently-dented skull.

"Kill the Demon!"

In the few seconds that had transpired since Samuel had entered the room, the other aliens had spread around him and drawn their weapons, ready for the fight.

But so was Samuel.

He grabbed the two axes from the fallen Brute he'd dealt with and spun around, parrying the blade of the first alien to strike at him and lodging his own axe into the beast's chest cavity. He leveled his leg and thrust his foot into the alien's stomach, letting it fall to the floor in a heap-

Another attack came from his left, and Samuel barely managed to block it with his remaining axe, catching the blade at shoulder-height and keeping the two locked as they fell down to his waist-level.

"Not good enough!" Samuel snapped, spinning the axe in his hand and bringing it back up in an instant, catching the Brute in the stomach with the plasma-coated blade and dragging it all the way up through its chest.

The alien howled in rage, lifting its head to the ceiling as it dropped the blade it was carrying, clutching its abdomen. Sam turned slightly to see the last Brute coming at him-

"No more games!" He lifted the Shotgun in his free hand and pointed it at the head of the roaring Brute.

BANG!

At about nine inches away, the blast took the majority of the beast's face completely off, and it fell to the ground with a thud.

Samuel easily – almost casually – reared back with the axe in his right hand and threw it at the oncoming Brute-

It lodged itself perfectly in the alien's front, right below its neck. It coughed violently for only a second, then collapsed on the floor like the rest of its kind.

"See?" Gael asked. "You could take 'em."

Samuel's eyes narrowed. He was panting slightly. While he had made the fight look easy enough, it was still an intense, dangerous battle that was both avoidable and reckless.

Still, it had been fun. It reminded him why Blaine and Ezekiel were the way they were; there was something to be said for proving a level of skill and power beyond anything your enemies could throw at you.

"In the future," he said, "you need to keep those ideas to yourself."

"Suit yourself," the AI answered. "You'll miss me though."

He sighed. "It's a wonder you never got Vic killed."

The AI laughed. "She was a little quicker than you."

* * *

The door to the lobby slid open and Landon led the way through it, still amused at the ridiculous ease with which Blaine had dispatched the last group of aliens. They were something new, but compared to the Spartans, their power was still laughable. It was a miracle they'd done any damage at all-

"Holy shit."

He stopped dead in his tracks when he set foot in the room that housed the elevator. Ezekiel was standing right where they'd left him, but he was the only thing that was the same. There were seven alien corpses littering the ground around him, each one more gruesomely executed than the last.

"Zeke…" he started, but found he didn't really have the words to finish. Blaine suddenly stepped in behind him.

"Oh, come on!" He snapped. "Seriously? I was on elevator duty, and I didn't see shit!"

The door at the other end of the room opened as if in response, and Stephanie stepped into the lobby, followed by Samuel. Both stopped cold.

"What happened here?" Stephanie asked, looking around.

Ezekiel scoffed. "What do you think?"

"I think you need to take less pleasure in execution." Samuel said, nodding.

"Love your work, Goliath," Zeke answered. "Leads to a long life."

"Not in our line of work," he answered. "Let's get going – the next level is the armory, and I'm in a hurry to get my Shotgun back."

"I second that." Landon said.

Samuel opened the elevator and the Spartans filed in. It was as cramped as it had been the first time – maybe more so – and Landon found himself standing next to a very irritable black-armored soldier. He tried to adjust his body to move away, but the space was just too small, and he ended up hitting Zeke in the back with his elbow.

"I will kill you." He growled.

"Would you shut up?" Sam asked. "It's like thirty seconds, and it's the same elevator that we just got out of. Get over it."

An excruciating half of a minute later, the elevator door slid open-

"Demons!"

There were six Brutes in the room that it opened into, five of which were Brute Majors. The last one was a Captain, and the alien promptly sprinted for a steel door on the opposite side of the room. Somehow, it looked remarkably like the ones the Spartans were stepping out of-

"It's another elevator!" Samuel shouted. "Get that one!"

Landon was shoved into the side of the elevator as Ezekiel pushed him out of the way, suddenly on a flat run toward the fleeing alien.

"Look out!"

One of the Brutes moved to get in his way, but Ezekiel vanished into thin air as his cloaking took effect. The Brute didn't even see the blade extending from Zeke's hand before it punctured its alien throat.

Two seconds later, Ezekiel had jumped into the air and came down on top of the Captain, blades out. The beast hadn't even paid him any attention – focused entirely on escape – and it was dead before its body hit the floor.

"That leaves four." Blaine said as the other Spartans spread out from the elevator, weapons drawn.

"Zeke, you get to sit this one out." Samuel added.

"Come on, Sam!" he answered, "if I'd have known that, I'd have had more fun with these two." He kicked the Brute Captain's corpse lightly.

"Your loss," Blaine said.

Landon raised the Shotgun and pointed it at the nearest Brute. "Let's go."

However, instead of pulling out one of the plasma-coated axes, as Landon was expecting, the Brute grabbed a strange-looking firearm from its armor. It pointed the weapon at Landon.

"What the Hell is that?"

The gun looked similar to a Plasma Rifle, but it was bulkier and a dark shade of red. The Brute held it with both hands, like someone would hold a Shotgun-

It fired. A purple-white ball of plasma shot from the front of the weapon and crashed into Landon, detonating against his shields and lifting him up, off the ground before throwing him into the back wall with surprising force.

"Landon!"

"I'm fine!" He shouted, standing up as his shields blared. "Son of a bitch! That hurt!"

The Brute fired again, but Landon was ready. He jumped to the left and the blast missed him, arcing downward and impacting against the floor behind him-

"Woah!"

The force of the blast still managed to take his legs out from under him and he stumbled forward, falling to the floor before quickly picking himself back up.

"What is that thing?"

No one else was listening. Each of the other Spartans was engaged in a battle of their own with the Brutes in the room, even Ezekiel, who had found a new sparring partner when a Brute Minor emerged from the new elevator.

"Guess it's just you and me, then." Landon snapped, righting himself and bracing his back foot. "Let's see you try that again."

The Brute obliged, growling lowly before firing two more shots from the new weapon. Landon braced himself harder and activated the shield on his left arm.

The shots did surprisingly little damage to the shield itself, but each impact felt like a Ghost had come crashing into his shields. Every shot threatened to take him off balance and put him on his ass once again.

"You will die!" The Brute squeezed off three more shots before stopping to reload, and Landon saw his chance.

"Not before you!" he retorted, charging forward and slamming his mounted shield into the Brute with all the force he could muster. It wasn't enough to knock the Brute over, but it did put the alien on its back leg, and Landon made sure to capitalize. He twisted his body and took the alien's other foot out from under it. It fell flat on its alien ass, roaring in rage-

BANG!

One blast from the Shotgun at point-blank range was enough to silence it for good.

"Not bad," Zeke commented. "Still slow though."

"Hey!" Landon retorted, "I don't wanna hear it!"

"Everybody listen up," Samuel said, looking around. "Plans have changed."

Landon was puzzled. "How so?"

"Two things," the leading Spartan answered. "First: we have another elevator, meaning that this isn't the lowest level. Second, I want to know what these weapons are."

Landon looked around. In addition to the strange gun that he had fought against, there were two more on the floor that he didn't recognize.

"Demon's working on it." Zeke answered. "I assume Gael's not having any luck?"

The brown-armored soldier shook his head.

"Why don't we get our ammo and then worry about it?" Stephanie asked. "I'm running kind of low."

"She's right." Blaine said. "And this level is small. The only door is that one," he motioned to a locked steel door at one end of the room. "I'm guessing it leads to the actual storage space for the weapons. We can sweep it and leave someone at the elevator."

Samuel nodded. "Landon, your turn. We'll restock and then you can rotate out."

"Sure," he answered, moving over and standing against the wall near the new elevator and eyeing it carefully. "Are we sure I only have to watch this one?"

"Other one only goes up," Zeke answered. "This one only goes down. I think it's safe to assume we cleared the upper floors."

"Fair point," Landon answered, checking his Shotgun.

"Take my ammo." Samuel said, handing him seven shells. "I think I'll be fine."

He nodded. "Thanks Sam."

"No problem. We'll be back in five."

* * *

"Wow…"

The storage space itself was rather modest. It wasn't much bigger than the cargo area of the Phantom.

But it was packed.

One side of the room was lined with shelves holding small arms of every kind, from Covenant Plasma Pistols to retired UNSC Target Locator used for precision missile strikes. On the other side, heavy weapons were stacked against the wall with ammunition sitting beneath them. Grenades and other crates were stacked against the wall opposite the doorway.

"Someone pinch me." Blaine said.

"Gonna pass," Zeke answered.

"Well, you're here, so I guess I'm not dead."

"Maybe this is Hell." Stephanie said.

"No chance of it." Blaine answered, walking up to the rack of heavy weapons. "In Hell, every wall would look like that one." He motioned to the light weapons on the other side.

"Alright," Samuel said, cutting them off. "Entertaining as this is, we've still got a job to do. Get armed and let's get it done."

"Before you rush us out, Sam," Zeke offered, "you might want to have a look at this."

Samuel moved to the far side of the room, where crates of grenades and equipment were stacked. Zeke had already opened one, and what was inside puzzled him.

"What is that?"

"I have no idea."

The box was full of small, vaguely-rectangular pieces of technology, each about the size of a Spartan's forearm. Samuel grabbed one on the top and pulled it out-

A circle of light began to glow yellow in the center, and a hologram rose from it, into the air. The image was yellow-tinted, and showed two outlines of what looked to be a Spartan. One of the outlines was filled in with yellow – the other appeared to be just a shell or a shadow.

"What the Hell is that?" Blaine asked.

"It's a hologram." Zeke answered.

"Well, yeah," the other Spartan snapped back. "I mean what does it do?"

"No," Ezekiel clarified, "Demon says it's a hologram. It's an old armor augmentation from when Reach was still intact. Apparently it hasn't seen use in years."

"Why not?"

Ezekiel shrugged. "Reach fell, and all the records showed that these augmentations were lost. Look at this-"

He pulled two more out, and a pair of new holograms came from them, bathed in orange and blue light. "What are they?"

He held up the orange one. "This one is called Armor Lock. Apparently it sacrifices mobility to temporarily up the strength of the user's shields and locks them in place. When the effect wears off after a few seconds, the suit sends out a short-range EMP."

Samuel was stunned. "Gael," he said, "is this real?"

"Demon's the history buff," she answered. "But I believe so. I've been hacking into the Foxhole's mainframe as best I can by remote, and it seems like it checks out. It was a storage facility for older weapons and systems that ONI wanted to work on and improve."

"What's the blue one?" Stephanie asked.

"Drop-shield," Zeke answered. "Serves similar to a Bubble Shield, but isn't as durable. Also has the added effect of increasing shield restoration rate."

"I think I'd prefer the Bubble Shield."

"But that's the biggest difference," Zeke clarified. "These aren't one-time use. They gather excess energy from the suit and then are able to use their abilities periodically."

Samuel was sold. "Give me that." He said, grabbing the Armor Lock. "I'm giving this a shot."

"Goes on your back," Zeke said.

Samuel nodded, placing the device on the back of his armor. Surprisingly, it fit extremely well, and his HUD adjusted to show a picture that was identical to the hologram of the Armor Lock in the upper-left side.

"Now what?"

"As soon as it charges," Gael said, "focus on the Armor Lock – your neural link to the suit will activate it. Then, since you'll be immobile, it's recommended to take a knee and use one hand to brace while the effects are active."

Samuel did as he was told, focusing on the Armor Lock until he could physically feel his suit beginning to stiffen, then he hit one knee and threw his fist into the ground.

The effects were immediate. His shields were thicker and completely visible, and he could hear the suit humming all around him. He felt more and more energy being donated to the shields until-

The shields suddenly vanished, and everything around him shook as the electromagnetic pulse was emitted from his suit.

A moment later, it was over.

"Hell yes," Blaine said. "Give me that shit."

He reached into the crate and grabbed another of the orange-colored augments, attaching it to his back.

"Can I have the shield?" Stephanie asked.

Ezekiel shrugged. "You would." He said, tossing it to her casually.

"What do you think Landon will want?" She asked.

"There's a jetpack augment in here." Zeke said, holding it up. The piece of technology began to glow white and a hologram appeared in the air above it.

"That'll do." Samuel answered. "Just leave it out for him."

"Well, I'm all set," Stephanie said, putting the Fuel Rod on her back. "We good?"

"I'm stocked up." Zeke said.

"You taking an armor augment?"

He shrugged. "I hardly need one…but why not?" He reached into the crate and grabbed one of the machines and turned around abruptly, apparently being careful to make sure the others couldn't see.

"Are you a child?" Samuel asked in disbelief.

"Just value my privacy," he answered.

"Whatever," Sam said. "We set?"

"I'm good."

"Ready to go."

"Let's hit it."

"Okay." He finished. "Zeke, go tell Landon to get in here. He can arm up and then we'll figure out a plan for dealing with the rest of the Brutes in this place."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Well, it isn't great, I know. But I'm trying to work back into a groove of sorts. The second half will be up in 24 hours, pending FanFiction's continued cooperation. Drop a line if you would - just let me know who's still around.

Thanks all.

- Raptor


	18. Chapter 17: The Foxhole Part 2

**Author's Notes:  
**

**What? Author's Notes? After thirteen months? Nope. Maybe later.  
**

**I will be answering any *questions* that were posted in reviews from the last chapter in edits to this one to be posted later in the week. At this point, I feel like addressing each individual comment from a year ago is rather redundant, so I'll let this one slip through the cracks.  
**

**I will continue to answer reviews in later chapters.  
**

**For an explanation of my absence, please read through the chapter and see the Author's Notes at the end.  
**

**Thanks all!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 17:**

– **The Foxhole (Part 2) –**

**2200 Hours - July 19, 2553**

**"The Foxhole" - Tanzania, Africa**

Landon was in and out of the armory in less than two minutes. He'd grabbed a new Shotgun, some rockets, grenades, and – as expected – the Jetpack armor augmentation, and called it good. Now the team of Spartans was standing before the new elevator that would take them into the lowest levels of the Foxhole, deciding on a plan.

"Okay, here's what we've got," Zeke said. "Demon says there are two additional sublevels beneath this one. The fourth was once used for chemical testing, mostly dealing with plasma-based weapons, but also testing the occasional biochemical agents."

"And the lowest one?" Landon asked.

"Central command," Zeke answered. "It was the hub for the spooks running this Hellhole. If there's a Brute in charge, he's in there."

"Are we still planning on finding out more of what's going on?" Blaine asked, turning to Sam. "I mean, now that we know most of this stuff was originally from Reach?"

Samuel nodded. "They took over this place for a reason. They've been kidnapping people from that town for a reason." He paused, shaking his head bitterly. "Better have been a good reason."

"So we go to the next sublevel and do a standard sweep?" Stephanie asked.

"It's small," Samuel answered. "The whole place is divided up into only two main segments: the entrance and the test site, which wraps around it and has three doors leading in, one on each wall of the lobby. We'll sweep the site. You'll be on elevator duty."

Stephanie didn't seem thrilled with the assignment, but she nodded. "Fine," she answered monotonously. Blaine couldn't help but grin.

For all her focus on saving lives, Stephanie was as eager for a challenge as the rest of them.

"Don't sound so excited," Samuel said. "It won't take long."

She scoffed. "If you were gonna put me on elevator duty too, couldn't you have done it when there was at least a chance that something would show up?"

Samuel shrugged. "Luck of the draw."

"Hey," Landon said randomly, "why didn't you ever end up on elevator duty?"

The leading Spartan laughed. "One benefit of being the boss," he said.

"Can we please get on with this?" Zeke asked, obviously annoyed. "Seriously, I'm dying here."

Samuel nodded and stepped inside the elevator. The others followed close behind, most of them inching into the cramped quarters and trying not to crush each other against the side walls. Blaine, however, was careful to step in next to Zeke and push the smaller Spartan as far into the corner as possible.

By accident, of course.

"Can we at least leave this Hellhole in pairs?" Ezekiel growled as the elevator began its descent. "Blaine, get the Hell away from me."

"Sorry," the biomechanical soldier answered with fake sincerity, "just no room in here." He pretended to shift his body away from the other Spartan, but ended up cramping them even more.

"I hate you."

"Children," Samuel said, cutting them off. The elevator suddenly stopped, and door slid open. Blaine was ready for a fight-

"Damn," he said, "empty."

The lobby to the sublevel was a blank slate. There were no chairs, no tables, no colors beyond the grey titanium walls. There were three steel doors, one on each of the side of the room and another in the middle of the wall opposite the elevator.

And that was all.

"Well, this just looks riveting." Zeke chimed in.

"Let's get this over with." Samuel said, stepping forward. "I'm ready to get outta here." With that, he started walking toward the far door. "Landon, you're with me. Zeke, take the left door. Blaine, take that one." He pointed to the door on the right side of the lobby.

Blaine nodded and turned to Stephanie. "Now, be careful," he said with a laugh. "You never know what you might find out here."

"Shut up," she answered.

The white-armored soldier simply laughed and turned away. At least he wasn't the only one wasting time guarding an elevator.

* * *

Stephanie sighed as the others left the room and the doors slid shut behind them. She stepped away from the elevator and rested her back against the wall, watching.

"What a waste," she whispered.

Why was she doing this? They had cleared all of the top floors. The only Brutes left alive would be the ones on the bottom level, and how many could there be? They'd killed thirty or more of the beasts.

As she contemplated the numbers, she heard something. It sounded like a low humming sound, coming from the wall-

"No way!" she snapped. "Seriously?"

It was the elevator. Something was coming up.

The Spartan knew that, if the Brutes saw her, one of them would certainly retreat to the bottom level to warn the others. She carefully stepped out of view and into the corner of the room, waiting.

A soft "ding" echoed around the room as the elevator stopped and the door began to slide open. As if on cue, the three other doors in the room locked shut with a resounding "CLICK".

She counted as four Brutes – two majors and two minors – stepped out of the cramped space and into the lobby, already armed and alert.

The third one out, a Minor, started to turn in her direction-

"Damn it!"

And she lunged at the group, Maulers already raised.

* * *

The Spartans had swept their respective sides of the lab that made up eighty-percent of the sublevel and met up in the middle where Samuel and Landon had started. There wasn't a single Brute on the floor.

But that wasn't the surprise.

Most of the chemical testing lab was separated into small rooms by translucent glass walls, creating dozens and dozens of individual chambers. Each of the chambers, that Landon could see, housed a single medical bed and several machines that wouldn't have been misplaced in a hospital. And in almost every chamber, in almost every bed, was the corpse of a human being, disfigured and – in some cases – difficult to identify as such.

"What the Hell is this shit?" Blaine asked with disdain, looking around slowly.

"Demon's trying to get records now," Zeke answered, his voice distant. "My God."

"Well," Landon said, "we know what the Brutes were kidnapping people for." He looked to Samuel, who had said nothing. "What are you thinking?"

Samuel's answer was short and barely hid the rage beneath the surface. "I'm thinking I know how the Brutes were testing their steroids." He paused. "And I'm not thrilled."

Landon felt the same way. It was horrific. What appeared to be a man in a nearby cell – because that's essentially what the glass cubicles were – had bones twice as large as they should have been jutting straight out of his legs and arms. His face was twisted and contorted in unnatural ways so that his eyes were barely even visible. There was blood all over the bed and floor.

And that was just one.

"Sam." Zeke said.

The leading Spartan didn't answer.

"Sam!"

"What?"

Zeke's voice was cold. "Brutes didn't do this."

Landon was confused. "What do you mean? Demon find something in the system?"

"Didn't have to," he answered. "Brutes aren't this clever. This is too thought-out, too contrived." He paused. "Too complicated."

Landon agreed, but was still puzzled. "So…what does it mean?"

"One of two things," he answered. "Either ONI was already doing this and they merely copied the process – after switching the specimens, of course – or-"

"Someone else is pulling the strings." Samuel finished, nodding. "Let's get Stephanie and get to the bottom."

"And kill every alien in this damn place," Blaine added, clenching his fist. "This is disgusting."

"Demon's got the details." Zeke said. "I'll pass 'em on after we get Steph."

Samuel nodded. "Gael's got them too. Let's go."

Landon turned to leave-

CLICK!

He knew the sound immediately. The door that he and Samuel had come through had just locked itself tight.

"Son of a bitch!" Blaine shouted, taking off to the right, toward the door he'd come through. Ezekiel did the same, heading to the left, and they both disappeared around the corners of the room.

Zeke was first. "Locked!"

Blaine's voice could be heard a second later. "Damn it!"

"Steph's got company." Samuel said. "We have to get over there!" He took the neuro-chip from his helmet and slid it into the electronic pad next to the door. "Zeke, get Demon and start hacking!"

"Already on it!"

Landon cursed under his breath. They just had to hope that Stephanie could deal with whatever the Brutes were throwing her way until one of the AIs could get the doors open.

* * *

Stephanie was only vaguely aware of the bodies that seemed to be piling up around her. The first four Brutes had been dispatched with relative ease, mostly because she was only a few feet away from them when the fight started and they were low-ranking beasts without the proper armament to stand a chance against a Spartan.

The next four to stream out of the elevator – and the four that followed them – were slightly better prepared. The second set of aliens had been exclusively Major-rank and up (including a single Captain armed with a Fuel Rod Cannon), and the final set had been nothing but SpecOps-level Brutes armed with low-grade cloaking tech and those damnable axes that she'd seen so many of lately.

Now, after fighting with them and dodging their attacks for almost four minutes, six Brutes were dead on the floor, including two of the Special Ops aliens. The other six were composed of three Majors, the Captain, and two more axe-armed beasts.

Stephanie was already in a corner – she'd had to be in order to take on both of the other blade-wielding monsters beforehand – and now the others were fanning out around her, preparing to take their shots all at once. The Fuel Rods were her biggest concern. After that, she worried about the three Majors and the Brute Plasma Rifles and Needler Rifles they were carrying. She couldn't really be bothered to care about the axes; hand-to-hand combat was something the female Spartan rarely feared.

The Brutes suddenly opened fire, and Stephanie did the only thing she could think to do: she threw down the Drop-Shield that she had obtained from the Armory and prayed that it was all it was cracked up to be.

With a humming noise that reminded her of the Bubble Shield, the device activated as it hit the floor and a giant blue dome expanded around her. It was all but completely transparent, and she could see as various projectiles flew into it-

BOOM!

The first Fuel Rod detonated against the shield, which flashed in response but did not falter. A dozen Needler rounds reflected off the shield's surface and the shots from the Plasma Rifles seemed to barely have any effect on the dome at all.

"This thing is awesome!"

BOOM!

Another blast impacted and the shield suddenly changed colors, turning a deep shade of red. Stephanie had seen enough shields of similar design in the past to know what that meant.

She raised her own Fuel Rod Cannon and ran out the left side of the dome, opening fire on the two closest Brutes: both of them Majors. All five shots in the weapon's magazine streamed out into the air before hitting their targets square in the chest-

A series of green explosions engulfed the beasts and Stephanie took the few seconds of cover they provided to strap the cannon to the back of her armor and bring her Maulers to bear.

"Steph!" It was Samuel. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "Little busy!" she answered, sprinting for the nearest Brute, who just happened to be one of the axe-wielding stealth-soldiers.

"Demon!" The alien caught her at the last available second and lashed out with one arm, narrowly missing the Spartan's head with it axe-

BANG!

She pointed one of the Maulers at the beast's face and fired. The shot wasn't enough to break its shields, but it did cause the alien some obvious discomfort, as it began to back up several steps, putting one hand to its face where the shot had connected.

"Where you going?" she asked, firing again and draining the rest of the alien's shields before lifting the other Mauler high into the air and bringing it down on the Brute's skull. The blade connected and cleaved the front of the soldier's head-

BANG!

The Brute dropped to the ground in a bloody heap. Stephanie attached the Maulers to her armor and grabbed the two axes off the floor. Then she squared off with the remaining three Brutes.

"Come on!"

The Captain opened fire and more Fuel Rods streamed through the air-

She activated the Drop-Shield again and the dome expanded to defend her. The green plasma bursts detonated harmlessly against the shield.

"Gonna have to do better than that," she said.

The other two Brutes charged her at once, running into the dome and lashing out with a combination of Plasma Rifles and energy-coated axes. Stephanie ducked the first axe and sidestepped, evading both Brutes before attacking and burying an axe in the back of the other SpecOps Brute.

The Major panicked. It roared loudly and struck again, this time with less focus and more rage. The alien swung wide-

Stephanie punched it in the face with all the force she could muster, lifting the alien off its feet and sending it careening backwards. As it fell, she closed the distance between them and sunk the other axe she was carrying into its chest.

Then she turned to the Captain, who was brandishing the Fuel Rod Cannon like a club.

"Run out of ammo, did you?" She asked. When she got no answer, she smiled. "That really sucks for you."

She ran at the Brute, closing the distance and kicking it in the stomach before it could even think of striking her. It stumbled backwards, dropping the Fuel Rod Cannon and throwing its right arm out in a counter-strike-

She grabbed the limb at the wrist, twisted, and felt bones snap. The alien roared.

Stephanie bunched her right hand into a fist and buried it in the alien's abdomen. The Brute doubled-over, coughing and wheezing-

The Spartan wasted no time. She grabbed the Mauler from her armor and sunk the blade into the beast's back, right at the top of the spine. And as it roared and writhed under her attack, she forced the blade to turn downward, digging deeper into the monster while simultaneously pointing the really dangerous end of the Mauler right at the bloody gash-

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The Brute stopped roaring and fell forward, its mutilated back so loose and gory that it simply fell away from the previously-lodged Mauler.

Stephanie let out a long breath. "Well, that could've gone worse."

CLICK.

The doors around the room suddenly slid open, revealing a group of what appeared to be very anxious Spartans. Each one of them had their weapons drawn and each was mere inches from leaping into combat.

"What the Hell?" Blaine asked, looking around the room. "Seriously? Even you managed to find friends on elevator duty?" He turned to Samuel. "This is bullshit!"

The larger Spartan laughed. "You'll get over it." He paused. "You okay, Steph?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. But you're late."

"Sorry about that," he answered, shrugging and nodding to the doorway. "Doors were locked."

Stephanie only laughed. "I can take care of myself." She looked at Blaine. "You were right, by the way: it's a good thing I kept my guard up. Never know what you'll find in here."

* * *

A few minutes later, the adrenaline had worn off and the five Spartans were standing before the elevator, ready to hit the bottom level.

"So, what did you guys find in there, anyway?" Stephanie asked.

"You don't wanna know." Landon answered.

Stephanie scoffed. "What did you find?" Her tone was much more serious this time.

"We found out where they're testing their steroids." Zeke answered. "And what they were testing them on."

"What'd you find out?"

"Demon and Gael hacked the systems before we were locked in," Samuel said. He shook his head. "It's not good. For starters-"

"The Brutes didn't think this up themselves." Zeke added. "There's someone pulling the strings – a Prophet – and that's not the worst part. The worst part-" He paused, apparently only just realizing that he had interrupted Samuel. "Sorry, Sam."

"No," the leading Spartan answered, "go ahead. You talk faster."

"Well-"

"Changed my mind," Samuel said, cutting him off. "Just had to see how it feels to be you." He paused. "The Brutes didn't think this up, and neither did the Prophet. All this equipment was already here. ONI was doing tests like these, trying to improve on the steroids and injections we were given, long before the Covies caught wind of it."

"These are ONI's tests?" Blaine asked, only slightly surprised. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Samuel shook his head. "Wish I was."

"What else did you find out?" Stephanie asked.

"Gael found records of a ship's departure about a month ago. It was a Slipspace jump by a Covenant vessel. The ending coordinates weren't disclosed."

"Gravemind let a ship leave?"

Sam shook his head. "Don't think he knew it was here. Whichever Prophet is in charge is clever enough to keep this whole place under wraps and out of the Flood's line of sight."

"Okay," Landon chimed in, "so the ship made it out. The real question is: what does it mean? Why did they leave a month ago? And why did they leave some of their troops here?"

Samuel shrugged. "Let's go ask them." He turned to Zeke. "Demon got the details yet?"

Ezekiel nodded. "Bottom floor is the control room. Just a small lobby and one thick set of double-doors leading to command central."

"How do you wanna do this?" Blaine asked. "If we expect the Prophet to sing for us, we're gonna have to scare him into abandoning his cause."

"Could send Zeke in cloaked," Stephanie said. "Give us the element of surprise."

Ezekiel scoffed. "Fun as that would be, there's only one way we're getting through the door: we're gonna need some big-ass charges."

"There were C12 charges in the Armory." Blaine said. "Those should work."

"Okay," Samuel said. "So we have two options. We could try to make a stealth approach work – though it probably won't – or we could just hit them with as much firepower and fanfare as we can muster."

Blaine liked where this was going. "Sam, I never thought I'd hear you favoring the badass approach over the careful one."

The leading Spartan shrugged. "We're in a hurry. And you're right: we need the Prophet to fill in the pieces. If that means scaring him half to death, then all the better."

Blaine was grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, Hell yes! I'll get the bombs, then we can get this party started!"

"Just keep it reasonable," Sam said. "Go. We'll meet you at the bottom."

"On it."

* * *

Zeke growled lowly. "This is ridiculous. What the Hell is taking him so long?" It had been fifteen minutes since the Spartans had descended to the bottom sublevel and proceeded to wait in the lobby for Blaine to return from the Armory. For some reason, the Spartan was taking his dear, sweet time-

The elevator door slid open and Blaine stepped out carrying at least forty small, square C12 charges in his arms. "What do you think?"

Samuel shook his head. "I think you and I have a different definition of 'reasonable'. That's what I think."

"You said to get as much fanfare as possible," Blaine retorted. "I only did as I was told. If you don't like it…well, you'll get over it." He paused. "You figured out what's on the other side yet?"

"Zeke's supposed to be working on it…"

"No," Ezekiel snapped, "Demon is working on it. And we'd have answers by now if-" He stopped.

"If…?"

Zeke started laughing. "Oh," he said, "you're gonna love this."

"What have we got?"

He walked over to the entrance to the control room. "Behind door number one, we have what appear to be two Hunters, four Brutes, and a Prophet."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Samuel was unconvinced. "What are they carrying?"

Zeke scoffed. "It's a joke. Got two Brute Majors, one with a Fuel Rod Cannon and one with a Brute Shot. One of them looks like another sorry excuse for a Special Ops soldier, and it's carrying axes. Last one is one giant freakin' Chieftain with a hammer."

"How big?" Blaine asked.

"He's the Sam of their group." Zeke answered.

Blaine didn't miss a beat. "Dibs."

"Bullshit," Zeke answered, "he's mine."

"You take the SpecOps." Samuel said, cutting the discussion short. "Stephanie can take the Major with the Fuel Rod Cannon. Landon can take the one with the Brute Shot."

"What about you?" Landon asked.

Samuel grinned. "For once, I get to relax and focus on the execution." He turned to Blaine. "Plant the charges."

The white-armored Spartan did as he was asked, placing the C12 charges around the frame of the giant set of steel double-doors. A minute later, he was standing back with the group, waiting on the green light.

"Blaine and Zeke on the outside edges," Samuel said. "Stephanie and Landon on either side of me. Questions?"

"Not a one, Goliath." Zeke answered. "Let's do this."

"This is priceless." Blaine said, holding the detonator in his hand.

"Do it."

BOOM!

* * *

The doors that served as the last barrier between the control room and the Demons outside suddenly flew inward in a sudden blast of twisted steel and the self-proclaimed Prophet of Diligence felt his blood run cold as smoke filled the entrance of the chamber. Before it could clear, he turned to the Chieftain at his side. "Kill the Demons! Kill them all!"

The Chieftain let out a menacing roar as the smoke died down and the Demons were revealed for the first time.

There were five of them, all standing in a line, side-by-side. The one in the center was larger than the rest and clad in brown armor. On either side stood a shorter Demon, one in light-blue armor, the other in red. And beside each of them was yet another of the armored humans, one in white and the other in black.

And they were just standing there, waiting in the doorway.

_What are they doing?_ The Prophet asked himself. It didn't make any sense. The behavior was tactically ridiculous-

But extremely intimidating.

Suddenly, the line began to walk forward in unison, straight toward the Prophet. Even in the bowels of the long chamber, the distance between himself and the Demons felt uncomfortably small.

And it was getting smaller every second.

"What are you waiting for?" He shouted. "Kill them!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The Brute Major at one side of the room launched a trio of Fuel Rods at the center of the group of Demons, which stopped abruptly-

The one with red armor stepped forward and threw something to the ground. A split-second later, the entire group was shielded by a large, transparent dome. The Fuel Rods connected with the shield, but detonated harmlessly.

And the group began walking again.

The Chieftain roared again and, as if in response, the two Demons on the ends of the line broke off, walking casually toward a Brute of their choosing. The white-armored one began marching toward the Chieftain, who had moved away from the Prophet and was brandishing its hammer.

The other Demon squared off with the axe-wielding beast on the other side of the room.

BOOM!

The Prophet's attention returned to the Chieftain as a giant Gravity Hammer crashed into the floor, barely missing the white-armored Demon. The Brute lifted the weapon again and brought it down-

* * *

Blaine grinned as he lunged forward and grabbed the Gravity Hammer just beneath the head of the weapon, holding it above his head with one hand. It took all the effort he could muster, but the intimidation factor was well worth it. The Chieftain was staring in disbelief as it pushed down with all the force it could summon, only to be denied by Blaine's left arm.

"What's the matter?" He asked. "You look confused."

The Brute roared loudly, baring its teeth and letting go of the hammer with one arm. As it reared back to strike the Spartan, Blaine tightened his grip on the handle, then threw his arm back as hard as he could, ripping the weapon from the Brute's grasp and tossing it behind him.

The alien responded by clenching its hand into a fist that looked strangely human in execution and lashed out-

Blaine caught the fist in his hand, holding it there, inches in front of his visor. The Brute couldn't see it, but he was grinning and almost laughing behind his helmet. The look on the alien's face was priceless.

Slowly – casually – Blaine moved his hand to the side, still holding the Brute's fist. His Spartan armor's power output was displayed in the corner of his visor, reading '167%' in bright red. Blaine knew that the suit could only hold the strain for a few more seconds before it would drop him down to safe levels, but he didn't care. He forced his arm to move while keeping a tight grip on the alien's hand and watched as the beast's face slowly became fully visible from behind the giant limb.

"Demon!"

The Spartan lashed out with his free hand before the Brute could continue, smashing it into the alien's abdomen and causing it to double-over as it stepped backwards, recoiling from the blow. An uppercut followed immediately, lifting the alien slightly off the ground before sending it toppling over backwards, flat on its back.

Blaine walked up to the fallen soldier, standing mere inches from the creature's skull. He turned his body so that he was facing the Prophet, who was still watching him with a look of fear and disgust.

With a grin, Blaine lifted his left foot only a foot off the ground before sending it crashing down on the Brute's skull diagonally. It was almost a kick, more than a stomp, but it did the trick: a gory mess was all that remained of the Prophet's Chieftain.

It was over. The Prophet was certain of it. He had barely had time to blink before his finest guards were dispatched. In the time that he had spent watching the white-armored Demon fight – no, not fight – murder the Brute Chieftain, the Special Operations soldier had been slaughtered, seemingly without effort.

Not only that, but two of the other Demons had broken off from what the Prophet assumed was their leader, and they had already killed the other Brutes.

Now the last Demon, the giant in brown armor, was walking straight toward him. His pace was slow, almost methodical, as he stalked past two of his allies, ignoring them and the Brutes they had killed as he focused only on the Prophet.

Finally, Diligence regained his wits. "Destroy the Demon!" He got the attention of the Hunters standing at either side of him. "Annihilate him!"

Both creatures crouched into a braced stance as they charged their massive, shoulder-mounted cannons. Green plasma began to glow at the tips-

But the Demon did not falter. His strides remained unchanged.

The Hunters suddenly fired, burning green energy erupting from their cannons and soaring straight for the human.

Surprisingly, he didn't even attempt to get out of the way. Instead, the Demon took a knee, remaining right where he was, and appeared to brace himself with one fist that he pressed to the ground in front of him-

BOOM!

Both shots connected, surrounding the Demon in a green haze and casting twisted shadows of his allies on the walls around the room.

That scared Diligence. Even though the brown-armored human was surely dead, the other four were almost certainly capable of killing the two Hunters and dispatching him afterwards. There would be nothing he could do to stop them if they-

The Hunter to his left let out a piercing roar of agony as twin blades of plasma tore through its abdomen, all the way up into its neck. A second later, the black-armored Demon seemed to appear out of nowhere, standing behind the giant creature for only a second before casually pushing its still-standing corpse over.

"You pissed him off." The Demon said, looking at Diligence.

The Prophet understood human language well, and knew exactly what was said…but he didn't understand who the Demon was referring to. Before he could ask, the human cocked its head to the left, toward the door.

Diligence turned to see that the haze had cleared, and the brown-armored human was now standing – completely unharmed – and back on the move toward the throne.

The remaining Hunter took aim at the human again, but got no chance to fire as the white-armored Demon lunged forward from the side, grabbing the creature's limb and twisting hard enough to tear the Hunter off the ground. The human began to spin, eventually lifting the behemoth into the air before letting go and sending its body crashing into the nearby wall.

Then, in an instant, all five of the Demons were standing around him, looking down at his throne. And, for the first time since he had been left in charge of this outpost, the Prophet of Diligence was not so excited to take part in The Great Journey.

* * *

"Who are you?" Samuel asked, wasting no time.

"I?" The Prophet answered indignantly, though Stephanie could tell he was frightened. "I am the Prophet of Diligence, a ruler among the Coven-"

Sam cut him off. "What are you doing here?"

"I will tell you nothing, Demon."

"You'll talk to me," Samuel said, "or you'll talk to him." He motioned to Zeke, who had activated the sword in his right hand and was tilting it dangerously.

Before the Prophet could respond, Ezekiel had gotten scarily close to the alien, showing off the blade mere centimeters from the alien's face. "Tell him nothing." He commanded. "All the screams I've heard in my time, I've never heard the final, pleading cries of a Prophet before he dies." He paused. "This could be my last chance."

"Zeke, back up!" Samuel snapped with feigned anger. "Get back!" When he did so, Samuel moved forward. His next word was an order. "Talk."

The Prophet seemed uneasy, but a glance at Zeke, quickly followed by the sound of Blaine tapping his hammer on the ground, seemed to loosen his tongue.

"I suppose it matters not," he said, apparently trying to justify his confession. "We were sent here to study and alter the programs your people were already conducting in this station." He paused. "I was put in command of the mission to create a set of chemicals that would augment the strength, speed, and stamina of the Jiralhanae."

"And did you?"

The Prophet seemed proud to provide his answer. "We did. We have found a solution to the problem that you Demons have posed to us."

"Clearly," Blaine said sarcastically, glancing around the room.

"Fool." The Prophet muttered. "These were the rejects. Those who responded favorably to the chemicals were evacuated from this infested rock."

Samuel didn't miss a beat. "When?"

"In your time? About a month ago."

Stephanie didn't need clarification. None of them did. The Covenant had found their chemical compound and escaped with it.

"Where did the ship go, the one that left a month ago?"

"I do not know." The Prophet answered. "As you can see, I was left behind." He sighed. "If I had to guess, I would say that it went home. By now, the chemicals have been analyzed and the procedure enhanced."

"Meaning what?" Landon asked.

The Prophet gave a truly frightening smile. "Meaning that, by the time your kind sees our Covenant again, not even Demons like yourself will be able to stand against our forces."

If Samuel was disturbed by the news, he refused to show it. "One more question for you, Prophet," he said. "How did you hide this from Gravemind? Why aren't the Flood all over your doorstep?"

At this, the Prophet laughed loudly, all of his fear disappearing and being replaced by an air of condescension. "The ship entered and exited Slipspace in the span of two hours. But the rest of this base…you think we hid this from the Parasite?" He asked. "How could you be so foolish as to believe that? There is no hiding from this "Gravemind", as you call it."

Stephanie felt her breath catch in her chest. She knew what that meant.

"He knows you're here." Sam said, realizing the truth.

"And you as well, Demon."

"Zeke," Samuel said quietly, "go to the surface. Contact Joel. Tell him to the drop the bomb off here. We're out of time. Go! Now!"

Ezekiel said nothing, but took off on a sprint for the elevator.

"How long?" Samuel asked. "How long has he known?"

The Prophet took a moment to mull it over.

It was a moment too long.

"How long?" Sam shouted, grabbing the creature by its extended neck and ripping it from its throne. "How long has Gravemind known we were here?"

"Not…long…" The creature could barely breathe, so Samuel dropped it to the floor. "Only since…you were…in the armory. We…didn't know until then."

"Sam," Blaine said, "it's been almost half an hour since we were in the armory. The Flood are probably already on top of this place."

* * *

Zeke reached the top of the base in three minutes and twenty seconds – he timed himself down to the last step, knowing that it was going to make or break his next move. When he reached lobby of the first floor and couldn't smell the Flood, he took a chance and went outside-

There was nothing. No new smells. No new sights. Just a barren wasteland in the dead of night.

"Joel!" He all but shouted over the intercom. "Joel! Where are you?"

"-ank God! I've been trying to get a hold of you guys for half an hour! What the Hell happened down there?"

"Long story," Zeke growled. "The Flood, where are they?"

"All around you," Joel said. "They're comin' in from all over Africa. Luckily, the nearest towns that were still populated during the infection weren't anywhere nearby."

"How long do we have?"

"Well, I mean…they're taking the main roads, but-"

"How long, Joel?" Now Zeke was shouting.

"I'd give you ten minutes before the first wave hits this place."

"First wave?"

"The small town you guys came from was hit not long ago. It was the closest populated area by far. The Flood are already on the move."

"How many?"

"Couple hundred at most," Joel answered. "After that, I'd give you eight to ten more minutes before the rest of them get here."

"How many more?"

Joel didn't answer immediately. "Uh," he started, stuttering over his words, "the rest of them? A lot. Like…thousands."

"Shit." Zeke cursed under his breath. "Those bastards would find us, even in the middle of the God-damned desert."

"What's the plan?" Joel asked.

Ezekiel sighed, deciding to follow Samuel's orders and praying they were the correct ones. "Bring me the bomb. I don't need the casing – just give me the NOVA warhead and stay nearby."

"You got it. Landing in thirty."

* * *

"He's back in the building." Samuel said, kicking the Prophet's corpse for good measure before looking at the other Spartans. "We've got about eight minutes."

"Before what?" Landon asked.

"Before the first wave of Flood get to the base," Sam answered. "Joel says that the village was hit a little while ago – hard – and a couple-hundred of Gravemind's finest are on their way."

"That's all?" Stephanie asked. "Why so few?"

"Well," he clarified, "that's the first wave. Apparently, after that one, we'll have about eight more minutes before the rest of them are on top of us."

"How many more?" Blaine asked.

Samuel shrugged. "Most of Africa?"

"Awesome," Landon muttered. "Fantastic."

"Quit your whining," Blaine snapped. "What's the plan, Sam?"

The brown-armored Spartan took a moment to answer, thinking it over. Finally, he exhaled hard and started speaking. "Blaine, go to the armory and get all the C12 charges you can find. I want them planted on every floor but this one. When we leave, I want to make sure the Flood can't get to the NOVA bomb."

"Can we help him?" Stephanie asked, motioning to herself and Landon.

"Blaine knows his bombs," Sam answered. "The rest of us are going to visit the armory, grab all the heavy weapons we can carry, and sprint for the surface. When we get there, we'll set up against the cliff face and prepare to face off with a few-hundred Flood forms."

"Sounds good," Landon said, "but what about the rest of them? We'll be hard-pressed to get out of here with all of Africa on our asses."

"That's the hard part," Samuel said calmly. "We not only have to kill the first two-hundred of them; we also have to do it in less than six minutes so that we have breathing room to get outta Dodge."

"Better get cracking then," Blaine said, leading the way to the elevator.

* * *

"They need to hurry up," Joel said entirely to himself. He was just waiting inside the Phantom, cloaked and floating less than a mile from the Foxhole. Through the front viewing glass, he could see hoards of undead on the horizon, rushing the facility in an ocean of moving corpses.

Their time was wearing thin and anxiety had already hit him. The first wave would be arriving in minutes. After that, if they survived, every undead monster on the continent was quickly closing the distance, and God only knew how many more were flying or driving to the Spartans' location.

"Come on Sam," he pleaded, "we gotta go."

Zeke met the others as he emerged from the elevator on the armory sublevel. Three of them were heading up to the surface; Blaine was on his way down.

"How long we got?" Landon asked as he, Stephanie, and Samuel piled into the elevator.

"Four minutes," Zeke answered, watching the timer in the upper-left corner of his HUD. He dragged the bomb toward the elevator that led to the deeper sublevels. "Get going. We'll meet you in a couple."

"See you at the top," Stephanie said, and the elevator slid shut.

Ezekiel loaded the bomb into the elevator as Blaine stepped inside, trying his best not to be crushed against the wall by the giant explosive.

"If you want," he said, "I can take the bomb to the lowest level. I can move it faster than you can." The statement didn't sound like a jab – it was an honest offer.

Ezekiel scoffed nonetheless. "I can move it just fine."

"Of course you can," Blaine said with a hint of mockery, "but if you take the C12 charges, we'll both get back to the surface faster. They're gonna need the firepower. Sam says we'll have about six minutes to clear the place of Flood forms."

Zeke scowled, thinking it over. Everson was right. It was just his pride that kept him from admitting it.

"Well?"

"Fine," he answered bitterly. "Give me the charges."

Blaine handed him fourteen small explosives and a detonator. "I already got the armory level. Just set a few extra in the labs and a couple on each of the top levels."

Ezekiel nodded as the elevator slid open and he stepped out.

"Catch you at the top."

* * *

Samuel set up the heavy machine gun with his back to the cliff, only a few feet away from the entrance to the Foxhole. He checked to make sure the ammunition was properly loaded, then checked to make sure his Shotguns were loaded and in working order.

"Think we got enough?" Landon asked, checking his Rocket Launcher before equipping himself with an old-model Flamethrower that strapped onto his back. Attached to the head of the weapon was a 40mm grenade launcher, loaded with half-a-dozen explosives.

"I'd say so," Sam answered, motioning to the weapon. "But with that thing, you're gonna be right in the middle of the fray, so I suggest having the Shotgun ready to go."

"Oh, trust me," he said, "I'm about ten seconds from seeing if I can strap that bad boy to the front of this thing."

"I think you've got enough firepower," Stephanie said, double-checking her Brute Maulers before strapping them to her thighs. She reached for the Missile Pod on the ground beside her that she had ripped from a mount in the armory. "And I think I need to start carrying one of these."

"Well," Samuel said, "we could probably arrange-"

"Sam."

It was Miedema.

"Sam."

"What is it, Joel?"

"Flood are closing fast. You guys ready?"

Samuel exhaled slowly. "Yeah," he said, wondering how soon Blaine and Zeke would join them, "we're ready."

"That's good, because in sixty seconds the first wave is going to be right on top of you."

Sam knew he wasn't exaggerating. He could already hear the monsters in the darkness ahead of them, even if he couldn't see them. The moon could barely show through the toxic atmosphere, and it gave the night a new level of obscurity that masked everything at more than a modest distance.

Still, it would help the Phantom stay hidden.

"Get ready!" Samuel shouted when he caught a glimpse of one of the Combat Forms in the distance. He stood behind the turret and watched patiently.

"Ready to go!" Landon shouted, strapping the Flamethrower to his armor and bringing his rockets to bear. "Say when."

Samuel waited until the horde was less than one-hundred yards away, when he knew that they couldn't disperse fast enough to dodge the oncoming blasts. He put the Spartan Laser on his shoulder and took aim in the center of the group. "On my mark!" he shouted. "Fire!"

* * *

Blaine had managed to catch up to Ezekiel on the first sublevel after planting the bomb behind the Prophet's commandeered throne. Now the two were leaving the elevator and sprinting for the entrance to the Foxhole.

The white-armored Spartan could hear gunfire and the screams of the undead before they even reached the front doors. War was waiting for them on the other side, and the super-soldier welcomed it.

"You ready?" He asked.

Ezekiel scoffed. "Hell yes." The two Energy Swords flashed to life.

The door slid open before the two Spartans even reached it, and Blaine got a glimpse of the raging battle that he'd been hearing already.

Samuel had ripped the turret off its mount and was standing a few feet in front of the door, firing non-stop into the oncoming mass of Flood-infested bodies. Stephanie was off to the right, the edge of her armor visible from inside the doorway. She had a Missile Pod and fired what Blaine assumed were the last two explosives before throwing it to the ground and grabbing the Fuel Rod Cannon from her back.

_Where the Hell is Landon? _He wondered. It took him a few seconds to see the blue-armored Spartan.

"Holy shit!" he said, disbelief evident in his voice. Landon Brooks was knee-deep in Flood biomass, spinning in circles with a Flamethrower and launching the occasional grenade into any larger undead forms.

"It's about time you got here!" Samuel shouted without turning around. The turret finally slowed its rate of fire before quitting altogether, and the giant Spartan immediately replaced it with a pair of Shotguns. "You get everything done?"

"Of course," Blaine answered, grabbing the Gravity Hammer. "Now…where should I go first?"

Before he could come to answer, Ezekiel sprinted by him, running straight for a Juggernaut that had just appeared from a group of Pure Forms. The Spartan's swords were no longer active, and Blaine was about to comment when the smaller soldier surprised him.

In one fluid motion, Ezekiel's cloaking activated while his armor attachment simultaneously created a hologram to continue running at the Juggernaut. It was flawless – anyone who couldn't see the marker above the cloaked Spartan would have never caught the ruse.

And that included Gravemind.

The Juggernaut reared back before sending one tentacle sweeping along the ground toward the hologram. It connected, but seemed surprised when the image just faded and its limb continued its motion with no resistance-

Ezekiel de-cloaked in midair and drop-kicked the Pure Form in its disgusting maw, sending it stumbling backwards before losing its balance and toppling over. Without a second's pause, the Spartan jumped down on the creature and used both Energy Swords to slice its face to ribbons.

"Damn," Blaine said, grinning. "I gotta give ya that one." He brought his hands up in front of his face and began slowly clapping.

Ezekiel laughed coldly over the channel. "Now let's see yours!"

"Alright, you pint-sized pain-in-the-ass, I'll show you how it's done." He turned to Samuel, holding out the Gravity Hammer. "Trade you for a Shotgun."

Sam sighed. "We're in a hurry." He said. "I don't suppose you could show off later?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. Didn't you see Zeke? I have to do it now."

Samuel threw him a Shotgun, then declined the Hammer. "Take it. Just go. In case you haven't noticed, we've got more of them left to kill than I can count, and only a few more minutes to do it in."

"On it, boss!" He turned around, pumped the Shotgun, and pointed at a Juggernaut that was in the back of the group of Flood. "You're mine, bitch!"

* * *

Ezekiel hadn't expected Blaine to respond to his showing off with anything less than his best, and he wasn't wrong. The white-armored Spartan put his Gravity Hammer on his back and racked the Shotgun before shoulder-checking his way into the mass of Flood in front of him. There had to be at least thirty of them, but it was Blaine-

He just didn't give a damn.

Blaine tore through the undead in front of him, shooting some and bashing the rest of their faces in with the butt of Samuel's Shotgun. He took repeated hits to the back and sides as he raced forward, but the Spartan completely ignored them, pushing closer to the Juggernaut in the back.

That instant, the Juggernaut disappeared from Ezekiel's vision, suddenly dissolving and dropping down into the mass of Flood forms below it. A few seconds later, Zeke could barely make out the heads and shoulders of three new Pure Forms – all of them Tanks.

"Watch yourself, Blaine," he said with a grin, "they're prepping for you."

"How's that?" he asked. "They on the run?"

Ezekiel grinned. "Not yet."

"They will be."

The Flood circled Blaine and closed in, a giant group of undead finally attacking him at once from all directions. If it had been another Spartan, Ezekiel might have worried about the result of the attack, but because it was Blaine-

Half-a-dozen grenades suddenly flew up into the air, already primed and lighting up the air above Blaine and the undead. Zeke barely caught a flash of blue light as the Spartan knelt down and folded his arms in front of his face.

BOOM!

The grenades fell and detonated either on the ground or on the undead that were surrounding him, shredding the infected bodies in an instant. When the smoke and plasma had cleared, a small wave of energy surged from Blaine's armor, and the Spartan stood up, unharmed.

"This shit is awesome!"

Zeke laughed lightly. "Armor-Lock?"

"Hell yes!"

Blaine sprinted forward, ignoring a few Combat Forms and charging straight into the remaining three Pure Forms with the Shotgun raised.

The one in the middle lashed out, but Blaine simply ducked left before bringing the Shotgun up and putting a shot in the monster's face at point-blank. When that didn't do the job, he balled his free hand into a fist and sent it crashing into the same place.

The undead beast fell over, and Blaine turned his attention on the Pure Form to his right, turning the Shotgun and using the butt of the weapon to bludgeon the monster repeatedly in the face until it swung its gigantic arm his way-

He jumped back, dodging the attack. Before the Tank Form had even stopped its swing, Blaine sprinted and leapt at the creature, knocking it over and landing with his feet pressed firmly into its abdomen. As it struggled to move, the Spartan threw the Shotgun to the side and threw punch and punch into its maw until the monster's "head" was nothing more than a lot of undead paste.

Zeke watched as the last Pure Form moved forward and threw its arm into the air, preparing to bring it down on the white-armored Spartan. Blaine must have known too, because he put his head down and suit began to glow again-

The shot connected, but Blaine didn't budge. The Tank Form swung again, this time to the side. Blaine had braced himself, and the attack managed only to move him a couple of inches.

If the Pure Form was surprised by the failed assault, it didn't show it. The creature simply stepped forward until it was virtually on top of the white-armored Spartan and began swinging with both arms again and again until-

A pulse of energy erupted from the crouched Spartan as his shields overloaded from the Armor-Lock and knocked the Pure Form off-balance.

And Blaine was on it in a flash.

He grabbed the monster by the arm and spun it around, wrapping the limb behind its back before kicking the creature as hard as he could. With no knees to bend, the Flood fell forward and its rotting, deteriorating arm gave way. Blaine tore the limb from the creature's "shoulder" and, as it hit the ground, began swinging the arm like a bludgeon, hitting the monster again and again until it stopped moving entirely.

Then he turned around, still holding the Tank Form's arm in his hand as he searched for any remaining Flood. When he realized that there were no more, he looked at Ezekiel. "I have - literally - ripped a Flood's arm off and beat it to death with it. What more do you want?"

"How 'bout you get in the Phantom?" Samuel answered, and Zeke turned to see him motioning to the sky.

When he looked up, he saw the dim lights of the Phantom over the top of the cliff, slowly descending on the Spartans.

"Back to the island, then?" Blaine said.

Samuel nodded. "Back to the island."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Well, I bet you never expected to see this story update. To be honest, I wasn't really expecting it either as of late, but a handful of events over the last couple weeks gave me just the motivation I needed to see what I can get posted. It was ready to go up last night...but FanFiction was being particularly picky and wouldn't allow me the privilege of posting.  
**

**As a bit of a refresher: my life has changed drastically over the last year and - for the most part - that's the reason you saw nothing from me for over 12 months. I've graduated college, gotten married, and am currently searching for a job. For these reasons, my time is really limited and I don't have the same amount to dedicate to Zulu as I used to. That being said, I will continue to work on chapters as my time allows and I will finish this book, as I promised.  
**

**I sincerely apologize that I cannot give you a general time-frame or a schedule for the posting of new chapters. My schedule hasn't worked itself out yet, so I honestly don't know how long I'll need between posts. As I know, you will know.  
**

**I will also be utilizing the Zulu Company Twitter account that I started, as well as potentially doing a Facebook page for updates (if you think this is a good idea, please let me know - I'm up in the air about it, but it was suggested by a reader).  
**

**Thank you all for your continued support and I hope to hear from you.  
**

**Best,  
**

**- Raptor  
**

* * *

**P.S. - For the record, I did not lie (about what I had left to write - obviously I lied about how long it would take, lol). I had about 1,000 words to write on this chapter when I last updated a year ago. I just could not, for the life of me, make them come out coherently (for two weeks straight). After that, I got busy with a summer job and trying to get my Senior year of college sorted out, and it fell to the wayside. **

**Just goes to show: "A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than to the average person." lol  
**


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